The Stolen Rose
by RebelKorra
Summary: Mace Tyrell refuses to surrender at the siege of Storm's End. Utterly crushed and with his two eldest sons killed, the lord of high garden finds himself at the mercy of the quiet wolf. Unwilling to rob a loyal man of his only remaining heir, Eddard takes the newborn Margaery to be raised with his son as a ward in Winterfell to ensure the cooperation of the Reach. Robb/Margaery
1. Prologue

**Hey Guys. New story that I randomly came up with. I am trying to approach this story cautiously, so I have five chapters already written to invest myself in it, though I am releasing on a weekly basis to help myself. It will be a long term story and I have researched it quite a bit to make sure I don't mess up any details. Reviews are greatly appreciated as always. Let me know what you all think and if anyone wants to beta, let me know. I just edit it myself otherwise. Per usual, I own nothing.**

 **Prologue: Eddard Stark- 283 AC**

As close as he was to Robert, Eddard had never actually seen his dear friend's ancestral home. He wished he was there with him; Robert would have boisterously told great tales of wondrous adventures and beautiful maidens. Well… after Robert was done with them, they wouldn't actually be maidens anymore. All of Robert's stories tended to end in a woman's bed. That was really the only constant of them. Alas, he was still recovering from his wounds received at the Battle of the Trident, as the small folk were now calling it, and consolidating his rule in King's Landing.

As much as Eddard hated to leave him alone with only Lannisters for company, Ned could not be in his friend's presence after what happened to Princess Elia and her children. Ned had more reason than any to despise the dragons and a part of him truly did, but the dornishwoman and her children were certainly innocent of everything. It had not been them who burned his father alive, forced his brother to strangle himself, or stolen his sweet sister; that had been Aerys and Rhaegar. Ned knew better than anyone that a marriage did not guarantee a love for one's new family; Elia Martell may well have been in the same position as himself… as regrettable as it may be. Yet, Tywin's mad dog had bashed the babe's head in and raped the poor mother, while Robert only laughed and lifted his glass in congratulations.

Freeing Stannis from siege was really only an excuse to get away and grow closer to finding his sister and bringing her back to Winterfell. Ned would never force her to marry Robert now; he only wanted what remained of his family to return to their true home and forget about the Southerners and their awful throne. Suffice to say, when Eddard finally laid his eyes upon Storm's End, he felt a myriad of emotions: apprehension, anxiety, maybe even impatience? He almost laughed at himself, many thought him incapable of such emotion. The quiet wolf they were calling him now, Eddard thought, chuckling to himself. He didn't know whether it was an insult or a compliment; he only knew that the hero-cult surrounding him was certainly helping his command, even if it made him slightly uncomfortable.

Storm's End itself was magnificent. Far taller than Winterfell, it towered over the countryside and looked nigh impregnable. Mace Tyrell had clearly discovered as much; the fortress looked untouched despite the massive host camped before its walls. It seemed Lord Tyrell had kept all the forces of the Reach that didn't perish at the Trident here, at first glance some tens of thousands of men. The manpower of the Reach was truly impressive, Ned pondered, especially compared to his hardy northern host. Even now, after most of its forces were washed down the Trident along with Rhaegar's rubies, Lord Tyrell's army nearly matched that of his northern one in numbers, though likely not in skill or power. Luckily, Jon had sent a large contingent of Valemen along with Eddard, which, coupled with what he hoped was a still living garrison at Storm's End, gave his army an insurmountable edge.

The royalist siege was horrendously organized as well. Lord Tyrell clearly had no idea how to conduct a siege. As he drew closer and closer to the camp, it became more and more obvious as to how Stannis had lasted so long. While Eddard had expected to see a large naval patrol around the coast, the Redwyne fleet seemed to be mostly docked along the shore, leaving the sea mostly empty. The land forces were poorly organized as well. Normally, a besieging army would maintain strong defensive positions around the castle, holding the strategic points with trenches and dirt walls. Yet, it seemed the Reachmen only understood the basic idea of a siege and had instead simply camped in a circle around the castle in rows of ill defended tents. Within seconds, Ned knew the army's numbers would mean nothing and that the men of the Reach would easily break, even by a simple, direct charge.

After surveying the field, Eddard called for his closest companion, Howland Reed, to join him.

The little crannogman presented himself to his liege lord with surprising swiftnes. "You requested my presence my lord."

"Once again, call me Ned, Lord Reed. We have moved well past pleasantries at this point." Ned responded wryly.

"Of course my lord. How may I be of service?" Howland said with a smirk. He enjoyed annoying Ned far too much, especially when it came to his unwanted lordship.

"What do you think of the situation Lord Reed?" Ned asked, genuinely interested in his friend's input. As the closest force to Moat Cailin, the men of Greywater Watch were experts in breaking sieges, consistently causing any attempt to attack that impenetrable fortress to amount to little besides wasted life.

"Forgive my bluntness my lord, but this may be the worst fucking siege attempted by any army of Westeros."

Ned couldn't help but laugh at his companion's response. "My thoughts exactly Lord Reed, I see no need for bloodshed today. Raise the flags for parley, I would like to offer Lord Tyrell terms of surrender."

"Very good Lord Stark." Howland responded as he jumped on his horse, shouting orders to the surrounding northmen. Though he was small in stature and joking in nature, the crannogman commanded respect amongst all of Lord Eddard's men and had a good head for strategy, attributes that had greatly benefitted Ned throughout the war. No other man had the same ability to quickly assess and act upon the ever-changing situations of war. Ned could only hope Lord Tyrell had even a fraction of Lord Reed's instinct; a fool could see the futility in fighting in this situation. Though only a fool could organize a siege like this too, so Eddard was struggling to remain optimistic.

Ned had been sitting in the hastily constructed tent for nearly an hour before he saw the banners of Lord Tyrell's procession approaching. If this was Lord Tyrell's attempt at giving the illusion of a dominant position, he was doing a poor job of it. While Lord Eddard sat alone with only Ice and his own direwolf banner for company, Lord Tyrell seemed to have brought the entirety of the Reach to the parley. Ned thought he could even see some jesters and children amongst the slowly approaching mass of men, but surely Lord Tyrell understood the gravity of the situation better than that, he assured himself.

Three riders broke off from the main group and Ned assumed it was Lord Tyrell and Redwyne, along with some other principal banner man, perhaps a Hightower or a Florent. Yet, as they drew closer, Ned only saw the rose of High Garden on the banners. Ned wasn't aware of any Tyrell brothers, but then again he was no expert on the Reach; he had a difficult enough time remembering the families of the north.

When the riders finally reached the tent, Ned nearly scoffed at those before him. As expected, he was faced with Mace Tyrell in newly polished and overly extravagant armor, but flanking each side of him were young boys, probably not even the age of 10. Ned couldn't fight his state of shock, as he nearly choked out "Apologies Lord Tyrell, but I was not aware war was a place for young children."

Lord Tyrell must have been quite taken aback by the harsh words and seemed to look around for any other man, who he could negotiate with, before realizing that he would only be speaking to Lord Stark. "No apologies necessary Lord Stark. These are not children, but mine own grown sons. I present my eldest, Willas Tyrell, heir to High Garden, and my second son, Garlan Tyrell." The slightly overweight man proudly stated, gesturing to both sides.

"These are no men Lord Tyrell. Your sons are still boys." Ned looked to Willas on Mace's left. "How many years have you seen Lord Willas?" The boy clearly had not expected to be addressed at this meeting and began quaking in his poorly fitted armor before finally summoning the courage to stammer, "9 years my lord."

"And you Lord Garlan?" Eddard questioned as he turned to the other boy.

"I'm 6 years old!" The child said as he tried to hold up six fingers, forgetting the banner in his hand and dropping it to the ground. He quickly jumped off his horse and picked the banner back up, but was unable to get on the horse without assistance. This was truly ridiculous, Eddard thought to himself. Why had Lord Tyrell brought children to a siege?

Ned turned to Lord Tyrell with a grave face. "Lord Tyrell, I hoped to speak alone. I'm sure your boys would not mind waiting outside."

"Of course Lord Stark, it is not often that the warden of the north and the warden of the south get to meet. Garlan, Willas please wait outside; I shall join you again in a few moments."

The younger boy helped his elder brother down from his horse and they both walked outside the tent, leaving Ned and Lord Tyrell alone.

"Lord Tyrell, I must say, I did not expect your children to be at Storm's End. Surely, they would be safer in High Garden. War is no place for little boys."

"Nonsense Lord Stark, they are old enough to see battle and I hoped to have my boys present for my great victory. I suppose a surrender will have to do given the circumstances." Lord Tyrell arrogantly stated as he took a seat across the table from Ned.

Eddard had to stop his jaw from dropping; surely he was misunderstanding Lord Tyrell's words. "I may be unfamiliar with the manner of speech in the Reach, but truly you must mean your own surrender?"

Mace Tyrell's face suddenly turned red with what was either rage or embarrassment, Ned could not tell. "Wha… What?" Lord Tyrell managed to stammer out. "I was under the impression you were here to negotiate the surrender of Storm's End to my army Lord Stark."

Ned could do nothing but stare at the man sitting before him; he truly was an idiot. "You must have heard of Rhaegar's defeat at the Trident and Aerys' murder at King's Landing Lord Tyrell? The war is over. The royalist forces are scattered. You are all that remains Lord Tyrell; my army and I are here to see to your peaceful disarmament and to you help you return to your homes."

Lord Tyrell suddenly stood from his chair. "Of course I have heard Lord Stark! But honor requires me to fight for my liege-lord. There will be no surrender and I will continue doing as I was commanded by my king and take Storm's End."

Ned could feel his own wolf's blood stirring beneath his calm demeanor. "Think of your boys Lord Tyrell! Your King is dead. Your prince is dead. You have no one left to be loyal to. I understand honor and duty better than most, but think of your men and their lives. Why should they die for a cause, which has already died?!" Ned shouted.

"Lord Stark. My boys will do their duty and fight for their king's memory, die for it if need be. Besides, what would a traitor like you know of honor and duty? You showed your loyalty to your king by shoving a sword through your king and bashing your prince's chest in! I will continue my siege and I suggest you return to the north before my army must send you there. I look forward to meeting you on the field of battle!" Lord Tyrell blustered as he tried to control his temper. The portly man finally turned from Lord Stark and walked from the tent without giving any parting pleasantries; he must truly be angry now. The two boys hurried after their father and helped one another onto their horses, as they tried to fall into position at their father's side.

Ned seethed in his rage as he turned from the table. Lord Reed met him outside the tent awaiting his orders.

"Ready the men Lord Reed. It would seem that blood will flow once again." Howland began to walk off, when Ned grabbed for his shoulder. "Spread the word that the Tyrell boys are not to be harmed. I will not have more children die for this damned war."

Howland quickly nodded his head and responded "What of Lord Tyrell, Eddard?"

"I would rather him be spared, but that bloody fool can rot for his stupidity. Now gather the men, we ride in an hour." Howland quickly rode off, leaving Ned to his own thoughts. For the first time before battle, Ned was not worried for his own men or their chances at victory, but for those on the other side, who were being led to a slaughter.

Ned ripped Ice from yet another dead Reachman. Unsurprisingly, his vanguard had swept through the royalist defenses and won an immediate 'victory'. This was not war. It was slaughter. Mainly serving to only worsen the bloodshed, Lord Stannis had led his thousand strong garrison out from Storm's End, resulting in Lord Tyrell's being smashed between two charges. "Lord Stark!" Ned was taken from his thoughts by the shout of a nearby man. "What is it ser?"

Ned was approached by a tall man in Stag covered armor. "Lord Stannis has captured the Tyrells. He asks for your presence to accept Lord Tyrell's surrender."

Eddard couldn't help but scoff at the soldiers words. This is hardly surrender. He was surprised that Lord Tyrell had any forces left to surrender, but at least the fat fool was still living. "And the boys?"

"I'm not sure my lord. I'm but a messenger."

Ned stood up and began to follow the soldier towards the gates of Storm's End. As he walked in, he couldn't help but turn his nose away from the appalling conditions of the city. Bodies were strewn across the streets with cleanup only having just begun… they were not the bodies of fallen soldiers. The fighting had never extended to within the walls of the city. Instead, the streets were covered in the corpses of women, children, and elderly men in numbers that were truly staggering. What few people, if you could even call them that, who still lived were sickly and on the verge of death. It seemed that they were all but devoid of life; only a few steps from entering the seven hells. As he neared the main tower, it didn't appear as though Stannis's own men faired any better. The armor was now ill-fitting and battered with many men hardly having the strength to hold themselves up.

"Lord Stark, I wish we could have met in better times. I must thank you for breaking this siege. The people of Storm's End are indebted to your my Lord." Ned was greeted by another sickly looking man, though clearly of high born status. He could see Robert in Stannis's stern face, but it was hardened by battle and coldness without the gleam of passion that always graced Robert's face.

"Lord Stannis" He nodded to the man before him. "I had hoped to avoid this bloodshed, but Lord Tyrell refused to surrender his forces."

"A foolish choice indeed Lord Stark. Rest assured these dragons will face justice for their blunders."

"I was told that you had captured the Tyrells? I would like to see them. Where are the two boys? I had hopes to bring them to High Garden with me."

"Follow me Lord Stark" was the only reply he received from Stannis, no hint of emotion evident in his voice. He hated this secrecy, why could they not just bring him the bloody boys and be done with it. The two remained silent as they entered the main hall. While he expected a room full of Lords and knights, he found only a singular figure bent over a covered table at the center of the room.

"Where are the other Reach lords, Lord Stannis?" Eddard asked, trying to ignore the sight before him. He already had an idea of what laid on the table.

"What few remain are being held to await the King's justice. Some eight thousand men-at-arms were captured as well. They are camped in the east corner of the city under heavy guard."

Eddard's fears were confirmed as he reached the center of the room and stood next to a distraught Mace Tyrell. Lifting the sheet off the table, Eddard was greeted with the sight of the two Tyrell boys. The elder son, Willas, had a slash deep through his chest, while the younger one, Garlan, was riddled with several arrows; one pierced through his throat. Not a good way to pass. Eddard slammed his fist against the table and shouted. "I commanded the boys be spared. How could this happen?!" He yelled to no one in particular.

"War never goes as planned Lord Stark. The boys wore the armor of any warrior, likely the men did not recognize them as children. It could not be helped. Besides, it saves us the dirty business of doling out justice." Stannis coldly replied.

"You call this justice? They were boys Stannis!" Ned pointed to Garlan. "He could not even get upon his own horse! Tell me Lord Stannis, where is the justice in that?"

"They fought for the Targaryens. Boys or not, they faced the same fate as all those who fought against us. Soon their father will join them and then we can move on to High Garden and rid this world of their stain." Stannis responded coldly, causing Lord Tyrell to shudder and begin sobbing over his sons' bodies.

Ned could not believe the bluntness of Stannis' words. How could the man desire such blood after having seen and lived through such suffering for so long? Revenge he could understand. Eddard had thirsted for revenge for years, but truly… two sons was revenge enough. He looked into Stannis' eyes, ready to argue, but quickly saw their resoluteness and decided against it. He would not be swayed on this day. "That will all be decided once we reach High Garden. Lord Tyrell and the other Reachlords could be useful in acquiring its surrender." Ned managed to say through his anger, hoping logic would win out.

Stannis' only response was a curt nod and Ned quietly hoped that they would reach High Garden without further trouble.

Ned found himself in nearly the same argument some weeks later, only now in the halls of High Garden.

"Lord Stark. Justice demands the heads of the Tyrells. Their house cannot be allowed to continue threatening Robert's rule." Stannis stated, showing no emotion. Not that it was surprising; in the weeks Ned had spent in Stannis' company, the first thing he learned was that no matter what came out of the Stormlord's mouth, his expression would remain unchanged.

"Would you have me hang the women? Maybe behead the children? Or should I just act as Tywin Lannister and command my bannermen to murder them for me. Perhaps, I could bring Gregor Clegane and have him bring his justice to High Garden." Ned coldly responded, his patience growing thin.

"There would be no torture Lord Stark. I am not Gregor Clegane. But we must do what is necessary. It is our duty as lords. If you have lost stomach for bloodshed, then you can return North and I will handle the punishments, but I hoped to have your support in this."

"One great house is already gone Lord Stannis. Tens of thousands are dead. I will not add to that list newborn infants and elderly grandmothers simply because they bear the name Tyrell. I will not destroy another house root and stem, when their only crime against me or the people of Westeros was to remain loyal to a liege lord, who did them no wrong..." Ned began.

"Lord Stark, I hardly…" Stannis attempted to interrupt, earning only a glare a raised hand from Ned.

"Yes. Lord Tyrell was foolish and his foolishness cost the lives of thousands, but I will not sacrifice any more to it." Ned finished, satisfied with his speech.

"So there is to be no punishment at all Lord Stark? Do you forget what these Targaryen royalists did to your family, to your brother, to your father, and to your sister? They're all dead because of men like Mace Tyrell." Stannis responded with a hint of anger.

"LYANNA IS NOT DEAD!" Ned shouted, unable to control himself. An expression of shock finally crossed Stannis' face and he looked only to the ground. "She will be returned to me and marry your brother. He would have your head if he heard you say otherwise."

"Of course Lord Stark." Stannis replied with a nod, still unable to meet Ned's angry gaze.

Eddard continued. "The Tyrells are not the Targaryens. They did not murder my family. They did not demand your brother's head. We've already destroyed those who wronged me and your brother. I want no more bloodshed because of the Targaryens' cruelty.

"So you still see fit to give the Tyrell's no punishment? Lord Stark, I could have allowed this mercy if they had surrendered, even after they wiped out the people of my ancestral home, but they did not surrender. They fought on."

"High Garden surrendered. We cannot ignore that." Ned countered, his voice still strong.

"Yes. After we destroyed their host and held their lord hostage. The remaining forces of the Reach are either scattered or in our custody. That was no surrender. That was acceptance of defeat." Stannis stated, with a hint of finality in his voice. If he thought Eddard was backing down, he truly did not understand the men of house of Stark.

"I understand all of that, but…" Eddard said before being interrupted.

"Then there is no other option, House Tyrell must be extinguished."

"No. Mace Tyrell is a bloody fool and he was our enemy…"

Stannis scoffed at this. "Was? Only two weeks ago I nearly died at his hands. My men starved because of Mace Tyrell, while he feasted outside the walls of Storm's End. Then, when he has the opportunity to save his men, he fights on despite it. Where is the justice in that? I understand your desire for peace Lord Stark, but peace cannot begin without first having justice. I will not stand by and let this go unpunished."

"Unpunished? The man lost two sons Stannis. That is hardly a lenient punishment."

"They died because of his own stubbornness, not our actions. They would have been spared and been allowed to return to High Garden had he surrendered."

Ned had listened to Stannis' arguing for far too long. "Must I remind you who Robert gave command of his army to Lord Stannis?" Eddard asked, hoping to regain civility in the conversation.

Stannis only nodded in response.

"Lord Stark. Still. Something must be done, I will not have my brother's crown threatened by this house again, simply because of our weakness." Stannis replied with a much more logical tone. It seemed that he was trying to act like the reasonable one after having demanded the heads of women and children.

"I never said nothing would be done, but I will not allow ANY more members of house Tyrell to be killed."

Stannis stood up from his chair. "You cannot mean to allow Mace Tyrell to continue threatening Robert; surely he must face the King's justice." Stannis responded with a strong hint of derision.

"Losing two sons is enough justice for this king. Robert does not mean to be the next Aerys. Enough children have been killed in this war… too many. He does not desire Tyrell blood like he does Targaryen. Besides, killing Lord Tyrell would only infuriate the other lords of the Reach. We need peace, not victory."

"Then what do you plan to do? You have spoken of mercy, but given no ideas for punishment. Retaining his lordship, keeping his son and heir, and returning to a life of luxury in High Garden, seems as if Lord Tyrell benefitted greatly from a war, which he lost." Stannis looked to the map strewn across the table allowing a brief silence to fall over the room. "You are right Lord Stark, the lords of the Reach must be appeased, but you ignore that they will always be a threat. How many men can House Tyrell call upon?"

Ned already knew what Stannis meant to argue. "Some 80,000 but…"

"Yes." Stannis interrupted. "80,000 and probably more royalist men, what is to ensure that he will not sow discord and attempt to rebel for that dragon whelp on Dragonstone?"

Ned was finished with this pointless discussion and decided to finally reveal his real plan. "We will take his child."

This elicited the first hint of interest on Stannis' face, though it was still only a single raised eye brow. "A hostage?"

"Not a hostage. A ward. I will not end House Tyrell, but Loras Tyrell will be taken to Storm's End to be your ward to ensure the Reach's continued cooperation."

Stannis continued to only look at Eddard. He finally sat back into his chair from a position, which Ned was now realizing was quite aggressive. After a few moments, Stannis responded with only a nod.

"Good." Ned said, standing up and glad to be finished arguing. "Let us bring this to the Tyrells. I hear they are having some damned feast, so they are already gathered in the great hall. We should join them."

Ned knew instantly that High Garden's pageantry would not go well with his stern companion. The great hall was extravagantly decorated and filled with cheerful lords and ladies, all of whom sat before a grand table covered in an absurd amount of food. In all his years, Eddard had never seen such bounty and this was after a time of war. He couldn't imagine what the feasts must be like during peace time. Stannis looked much less in awe of the display before him, but more in anger and disgusts. Likely after having been nearly starved out of his home by many of these very men, Stannis felt as if Lord Tyrell was purposely insulting him. Ned couldn't blame Stannis, but he wasn't sure Mace Tyrell was smart enough to formulate such an insult, let alone realize what effect this show of luxury would have on Stannis.

Lord Tyrell himself sat at the head of the table surrounded by what was left of his family. The elderly lady to his right was likely the famous Olenna Tyrell. It was unsurprising that she was literally at his right hand; from what Ned had heard she may as well have been at the head of the table. To Mace's right sat a small boy, perhaps of 3 years, who must have been Loras Tyrell. Though most children would be overwhelmed by so much commotion, Loras seemed at ease by his father's side; perhaps a result of being raised in such an environment. This could be an every day occurrence in High Garden for all Ned knew.

Before Ned could survey the rest of the room, he heard a herald, of which there were many in High Gardens declare their arrival.

"I present Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell, Lord Paramount of the North and Warden of the North, as well as Lord Stannis Baratheon, Heir to Storm's End."

Stannis clearly felt slighted by the remark and quickly corrected the Herald. "With my elder brother being the King now that would be Lord of Storm's End now ser."

Lord Tyrell seemed not to pick up on Stannis' obvious disdain for him and greeted them as if nothing was amiss. "I welcome you to the great hall of High Garden's my lords. I am sure you will find the food bountiful and the company pleasant. Come and join me at the high table."

Ned interceded quickly. He only wanted to be on his way in search of Lyanna. "That shan't be necessary my Lord. We will be on our way soon enough and would prefer to stand."

Stannis joined in before Lord Tyrell could respond to Ned's obvious slight. "Seems there would be little to feast about Lord Tyrell. You must have forgotten that you lost this war. We have brought our terms, I would advise you accept them."

Mace again seemed to either ignore and miss Stannis' obvious disdain for him. "Yes, yes, of course my lords". The man turned around and whispered something to a man behind him, who quickly began walking towards Eddard and Stannis. "But even in our lowest times we can still rejoice. My wife" he began, as he looked past Loras towards a pretty woman holding a newborn babe "has gifted me with a beautiful daughter, Margaery. So there is much to be thankful for in High Garden these days Lord Stannis."

The servant finally retrieved the terms from Stannis and began bringing them up to Lord Tyrell, but Ned was only stuck in thought. He knew stealing Loras from the Reach would only make him a weak lord in the future. A lord must know his lands and his people, not those of the Storm Lands. By taking him, he would be forcing a quasi-Storm Lord on the lords of the Reach, once Lord Tyrell passes. Yet, a daughter… a fourth… well actually a second now. That could keep the Tyrell's in line, while still ensuring a strong Lord in the Reach and peace. Besides, Loras seemed perfectly content in the Reach; a babe could never miss a home she never knew, whereas Loras would.

He was interrupted by choking and stammering words from the mouth of Mace Tyrell "My lords, you, you, you cannot mean to take my only son from me!" Before he had even finished his garbled sentence, his mother had snatched the note out of his hands and begun reading it.

Stannis apparently had failed to think the possibility brought on by this new babe and continued on "That is exactly what we intend Lord Tyrell. I will raise him at Storms End. He is of similar age to my brother Renly; I'm sure they will become good friends."

Mace nearly jumped out of his seat and nearly shouted "You ask too much my lord!" Ned barely suppressed his snort. They could have asked for far more than they were now. The man Lord Tyrell was appealing to had wanted to litter the wall with their heads and he speaks of asking too much. The lord of High Garden truly was a fool. No wonder the Targaryens lost the war with idiots like this in charge of their armies.

Stannis must have thought similarly to Ned and quickly interjected "Excuse me Lord Tyrell, but in my opinion this is hardly punishment enough." He turned to Ned and added "Were it not, I would have House Tyrell lining the walls as dragon lovers." A gasp went throughout the room and what had remained of the happy chatter was immediately extinguished by Stannis's words. He hardly needed to say that, but Eddard knew that he had to let Stannis vent his anger or the new plan that he was formulating would never succeed.

Lord Tyrell seemed to sober up and finally understand the severity of his situation at these words, as he leaned back into his chair and tried to put on a mask of indifference. "Of course my lord. And the people of High Garden truly thank you for your mercy. I only mean that you cannot take a man's only child, when he has just lost his other children but two weeks in the past."

The hints of a smirk crossed Stannis' face, though, as usual it quickly morphed back into its normal cold blankness. "But Lord Tyrell. Is that not the point of this extravagance? You now have two children. I am quite certain that Lady Margaery will fill High Garden with enough joy until the time that King Robert sees fit that Loras be raised to Lord Paramount of the Reach." Mace's face quickly paled at the words likely hearing the obvious underlying sentiment of "not when you die." Ned was growing more and more weary of this argument. Lord Tyrell was being outfoxed by the most crude and blunt lord in all the seven kingdoms; it was truly remarkable.

Lord Tyrell must have thought something clever as a small smile graced his lips as well "Yes of course my lord, but my wife has only just lost two sons. Surely, you would not rob her of another."

No one else in the room may have been able to tell, but Ned could see the flash of anger in Stannis' eyes at the words. "You have robbed the storm lands and the north of many more sons than only two Lord Tyrell. Best you remember that before I.."

Luckily, Lady Olenna saw fit to intercede at this point and quipped up before he could finish with his threat, which Ned assumed would involve their heads being displaced from their bodies. "Apologies Lord Stannis, I hate to interrupt this constructive discussion. But Lord Stark has been silent this entire time. Given that this is his plan, I would like to hear from him." She turned towards Ned and continued "Do you really think it best to rob one of the seven kingdoms of its heir? Surely Loras would be a better Lord of the Reach if he were raised here, do you not agree Lord Stark? You yourself were raised outside the North; becoming Lord of a foreign land must have been quite difficult for you." She finished with a raised eye brow.

Ned remained quiet for a moment, secretly impressed. She truly was as remarkable as he had been told. He finally decided to respond with "I agree Lady Tyrell, but I see little other options" as he again looked to the baby in Lady Alerie's arms. Ned saw Lady Olenna catch his gaze and also look towards the baby; he silently cursed his stupidity and tried to bring his eyes back to the Queen of Thorns, but could hardly help it.

Only Lord Tyrell spoke up "Lord Stark, there must be another option."

Again Ned could not help but look to the baby. She was gazing up at her mother, who was cooing softly to her, likely trying to lull her into slumber. It was a very beautiful baby and hadn't seemed to cause any disturbance since Eddard and Stannis arrived. Lady Alerie must have noticed the piercing silence in the hall and quickly looked up, seemingly awakening from a daze. Her eyes immediately met Eddard's and realization swept through her face.

"No! My lord I beg of you. You cannot, she is but a babe!" Lady Tyrell cried out. Her face no longer held any of its former peaceful nature and was now in a state of shock. Even the baby itself was now stirring, as it began to cry because of its mother's shouts.

Mace Tyrell must have been the only man in the room who did not grasp what his wife was speaking of and tried to quiet her "My Lady, please silence yourself! What is this nonsense?"

He was again interrupted by Lady Olenna who sternly said "Shut up you buffoon. It would seem that Lord Stark has found his other option, however terrible it may be."

"Mother please! What do you mean? What other options?"

Lady Olenna's expression remained unchanging and cold. "He means to take the Lady Margaery to Storm's End in place of Loras."

Stannis immediately turned to him, his face still empty of all emotion "Lord Stark that is not what we agreed upon."

Ned decided that this entire charade needed to be ended and finally revealed his plan "Lord Stannis, we will discuss it later in private" He then switched his gaze to Mace. "That is the only other option Lord Tyrell. As cruel as it may be, I find it far crueler to rob a people of its next lord. The smallfolk would suffer if Loras were to be absent from the Reach during his formative years."  
Lady Alerie was still in a state of shock and wailed, two servants struggling to hold her at bay. Mace seemed almost pleased with the new plan, but quickly tried to wipe his face of the emotion. He turned to his mother, who only nodded, and finally looked back at Lord Stark. "If there is no other option, then I accept these terms Lord Stark. Margaery will be raised by Lord Stannis and become his ward."

At these words, Lady Alerie ran from her spot at the table with the babe and two servants trying to chase after her. She fell to Ned's feet desperately grasping the baby with a look of complete desperation on her face. "Please my lord, do not take my Margaery from me. She's such a sweet little girl. I just lost my two boys, you cannot take even more from a grieving mother!"

Eddard met her gaze, wanting to sooth her fears, but failing to find the words. "I'm truly sorry my lady… there is no other option."

She frantically looked to Stannis and met his cold glare. "But he hates us!" she shouted through choked breathes "He will treat her poorly. Lord Stannis would have had her head if not for you. He cannot have her!" She looked around trying to gain any sympathy, but her husband only shook her head. Stannis began to argue, but Ned rose his hand to silence him; his words would not console the mother. Lady Alerie finally looked back towards Ned defeated, but instead of conceding, she cast the baby into Ned's arms, who nearly stumbled back in surprise. "Please Lord Stark, you take her! Bring her to Winterfell with you. Surely being raised in the North would accomplish the same as being raise in Storm's End. She will have a better life there! You have a new son, surely as a father you must want the best for your child." She began breaking down into sobs again, before managing to calm herself and look back into his eyes. "Please… I simply want the best for my child too. Raise her as a ward of Winterfell, if you must take her, but do not let her go with Stannis."

Eddard looked into the eyes of the baby, who was now alert and awake, and felt his resolve melt a bit. "My lady, the North is far and cold. You would never be able to see her; she would never see the Reach." He responded weakly. The small folk may think him cold and heartless, but Eddard already cared for the little babe in his arms. Perhaps, she could be a good friend to his own son Robb, whom he had yet to even meet.

"Please Lord Stark. I beg of you, show mercy to a grieving mother." Alerie nearly whispered to him. Ned could only look at Margaery who began smiling and reaching up towards his face.

"My lady, I could not take a girl from her entire family. She would be raised like a Stark, learn like a Stark. We do not even have a sept at Winterfell; she may even take on our gods. At Storm's End she may have a chance to see you and be raised in your ways before…"

Olenna for what must have been the dozenth time, interrupted the conversation without hesitation. "Lord Stark, I could accompany you to Winterfell. It would be nice to get away from my flock of hens in High Garden and I hear the cold is good for one's old bones."

Ned had not expected that offer and he could feel his defense falling away from him. "Lady Tyrell, I'm sure your granddaughter would appreciate it, but surely you cannot leave the Reach in such a time and for so long. Lady Margaery would remain in Winterfell well into her life and the Reach would greatly benefit from your presence during that time."

"Oh my son has already made as big a mess of our little kingdom as he possible could…"

"Mother, I was only doing…" Lord Tyrell meekly interrupted. He had probably heard this many times before.

"Yes, yes. You were only doing your duty to your liege lord. You've told me that before, but you had no one left to be loyal to my son." She dismissively looked away from her son and back to Ned. "As I was saying Lord Stark, I wouldn't want my only granddaughter and the only true lady of House Tyrell to end up as big a fool as my son." Again looking to her son with a hint of disdain. Though it seemed that Lord Tyrell now had nothing left to say, so she continued on without much hesitation "No offense to you of course Lord Stark, but that is an endeavor that I would personally oversee and I could teach Lady Margaery the ways of the Reach in the same breath. Besides, I may be old, but I should be able to find my way back to the Reach whenever my presence is truly needed." She finished, a victorious smile following it.

Ned again looked down to the babe and smiled, triggering a fit of giggles in the babe. Likely she had never seen a northmen, let alone a smiling one. If the men could see him now, they would probably have the same reaction. Eddard patted her on the head and Margaery grabbed onto one of his fingers with surprising strength. He secretly wondered if his own son would be the same and take to him so quickly.

Ned knew he had been bested and smirked at the Lady Olenna. "Truly I am no match for the Queen of Thornes. If one rose is willing to wilt in the cold north, then I guess two would not hurt." He finally looked back to the 'lord of High Garden', though apparently that was only a title here, who was now trying to console his wife, and finally gave in.

"Very well Lord Tyrell, the Lady Margaery will become my ward in Winterfell and be raised along with my own son. I will do my best to ensure her happiness and treat her like mine own child of that I give you my word." Ned turned around and beckoned Stannis to follow suit. As he walked past the Reachlords, he again found his gaze being pulled to the young babe in his arms. She certainly does not look like a Stark, of that he was sure. Her light brown hair and eyes would be truly unique in Winterfell. But someday she will act as one just the same.

 **So there you have it. This is the only chapter in Eddard's perspective. Everything else will be from Margaery's POV. Obviously, because she was raised by the Starks, she will be different, though I hope to maintain her character somewhat. As you can also tell, this story is pretty AU, although it does follow the same general story line of GOT until later on, just with Margaery thrown in to the Stark stuff.**


	2. Chapter 1

**Hiei-Uchiha** **: Thanks! I'm trying my best and I will try to get out updates every Friday.**

 **jean d'arc** **: Thanks! Well you're about to find out! It's a time skip to get to the real story.**

 **dreadfort1453** **: Yeah, I didn't see anything like this anywhere else, so I think its an original idea. On Storm's End, you very well may be right on that; I'm not sure. On Olenna, I may have been unclear in it, but she isn't permanently in Winterfell, only parts of the year for that very reason.**

 **Imperial Dragon** **: Well here you go!**

 **spectre4hire** **: Yeah, I completely agree with all your points. I really feel like that is pretty in line with Mace's character and yes they are in Winterfell. I like the Robb/Margaery pairing and there isn't too much fiction on it, so I thought I'd add to it. Thanks for the correction on Highgarden; that is something that definitely would have kept going over my head.**

 **Zyphrost** **: We'll have to see how much influence Margaery has on Robb!**

 **Ardvark: I haven't really decided on if R+L=J will be relevant in this story. I know its canon and everything, but I just haven't really worked it into the story, so as of now Oleanna doesn't say anything about it. Good idea though!**

 **Lisa: Honestly, bringing Oleanna is mostly a means of keeping parts of Margaery's character (that way she isn't completely Stark). Oleanna's presence makes her a mix of Stark and Tyrell, which I am hoping to good down alright. Not to say that Oleanna isn't relevant to the story, but it definitely focuses on Margaery and Robb (though especially Margaery as it is her POV).**

 **azphxbrd** **: Sadly, I didn't write that part into the story. For now, it's only the viewpoint of Margaery; Eddard was a one-off thing to setup the story and serve as a prologue. Jon will be an important part of the story down the road, but for now I feel like R+L=J just is not relevant to what I'm doing with this story.**

 **DoNotPanic** **: I'm glad you're excited. I had never seen something like this before, so I thought I may as well give it a shot.**

 **TimtimWantDindin: Well here it is!**

 **Here is the first part of the real story! There is a time skip, just because the focus of the story is Margaery and Robb, not Eddard or anything from around Robert's Rebellion. The support and reviews have been great, which I'm really excited about. I wish I could get these out faster for you guys, but I have a max course-load, a job, and a thesis to work on, so time can be sparse for me. Then I meant to get it out yesterday or earlier today, but as American readers will know; that doesn't happen at big colleges on Saturdays, especially at my school. But anyways, no more excuses, and as always, review with any suggestions or ideas and here is the chapter!**

 **Chapter 1: Margaery Tyrell- 298 AC**

Damn that Robb Stark. Of all the men in the seven kingdoms, Margaery had to hopelessly love the biggest bastard of them all. Even now, he was with that whore Erika Umber. Not that she should be very surprised by this; she was beautiful. When Margaery had first heard that Lord Umber's daughter was coming to Winterfell for the King's visit, she thought nothing of it. Sure, she was the same age as Robb and her, and she was the daughter of one of Lord Eddard's principal bannermen. A fool could see what Lord Umber was trying to do, but Margaery had assumed the daughter of a 7 foot giant and a wildling would be an ugly beast of a woman.

She had been shocked to learn that wasn't the case. Earlier in the day, she had actually been in a wonderful mood. Robb had asked her to take a ride outside Winterfell with him, but everything changed when the Umber's arrived a day early. Per usual whenever a major house arrived at Winterfell, the Starks and their wards were trotted out in the yard to be presented to the Lord like cattle. She had actually been impressed by the Umbers at first; they truly were giants of men and the Greatjon seemed to be a rambunctious one. That was until Erika Umber exited her wagon and immediately presented herself to Robb.

" _Lord Robb!" the giant bellowed, "I would like to introduce you to the bright flame of Last Hearth, my maiden daughter Erika Umber."_

 _At those words, the young 'maiden'(though Margaery found that hard to believe) curtseyed before Robb and blatantly looked him up and down. Margaery nearly snorted at her, that was until she saw Robb's gaze do the same to Erika, a small grin crossing his lips. Seeing that, Margaery's sneer instantly fell from her face. She knew why Robb was looking; she had a certain northern beauty that Margaery could never hope to have. She had raven black hair and pale white skin, but unlike the other Umbers she wasn't large and was actually dwarfed by Robb, which Margaery knew many men desired. She had doey eyes and a pretty, innocent smile that Margaery just knew was hiding sinister intentions... She hoped at least, for Erika was undeniably beautiful and if she was sweet as well then she may be a large problem._

" _My lady." Robb greeted her, "It is a true honor to meet you; I have heard tales of your beauty" he finished as he brought her hand up for a light kiss. Margaery turned red in the face, knowing the kiss may have lingered for longer than necessary._

" _The pleasure is mine Lord Robb" she began as she again looked him up and down "I see why the maidens of the north tell such tales about you as well." Margaery noticed that Robb actually seemed rather taken aback by her blunt flirting, his face dropping quickly before recovering just as fast. Margaery on the other hand could barely contain her anger; she hadn't missed the use of the word 'pleasure' and she nearly blanched in her own throat as Erika Umber blatantly seduce Robb._

 _Lord Umber then clapped Robb on the back, nearly knocking him over, and laughed, saying "Don't look at her too long boy. That isn't your right… yet." Margaery froze at and felt her world slowly falling around her. "Why don't you escort my daughter to her lodgings; perhaps walk her around Winterfell?" the Greatjon suggested, shoving his daughter closer to him. She clearly didn't mind the push, as she actually fell directly on to Robb, leaving her hand on his chest and looking up into his eyes. Margaery couldn't believe the boldness of the girl, but Robb seemed not to notice and continued grinning like an idiot._

 _Robb finally looked away from the whore and to her father, "Of course Lord Umber." He took the Umber girl's arm in his and began inching towards the main keep "If you will follow me my Lady, I would be happy to show you my home." Erika nodded her head and looked excitedly back to her father, who only nodded back at her with a growing grin. Had all this been part of some scheme to get Robb for Lady Umber at this very trip? She couldn't believe the nerve; they were a vassal to the Starks, but then Robb was going right along with it and seemed to even enjoy it!_

Well Robb could enjoy her all he wanted. Erika Umber would probably bed him this very day just to get to him and Robb appeared to lack the honor Margaery thought him to have. Margaery was already an emotional disaster; she was suffering from her first moonsblood. What should have been a joyous though interesting time in her life was only crushing. When her blood had never come in her earlier years, she had only been worried for the sake of Robb. He would never want to marry her, if she couldn't provide him with more beautiful Tully eyed Starks. So with the arrival of her bleeding only a few days ago, she had initially been giddy with excitement at the thought of being suitable for Robb. But now she only felt a fool, why would Robb have even wanted to marry her? It was a naïve notion; the future heir to Winterfell marrying the daughter of a disgraced Reachlord, yet Margaery had always held hope in the past, despite her attempts not to. Margaery wasn't as beautiful as Erika Umber or Cersei Lannister, but she was still certainly pretty, wasn't she?

Though none of that even mattered anymore to Margaery, Robb was not the honorable man she had thought him to be. He was allowing this Umber girl to throw herself at him and was probably at this moment dishonoring her in some stable. To think, Margaery had for years dreamed of giving her maidenhood to Robb, of just throwing himself in his arms and telling him she loved him; a sentiment she desperately hoped he would return. Alas, Robb had never shown any indication of seeing her as anything but a sister. The closest they ever got were chaste hugs and although he may have lingered with her longer than with his real sisters, that could just be accounted for by their closer relationship.

For surely, if Robb thought Margaery to be a sister, then she was his closest sister. Growing up together in Winterfell, Margaery could not remember a time where Robb and herself had been apart for more than a week. Whenever he did leave her, he would always give her a blue winter rose, hug her, and say 'farewell my winter-rose'. For years she had thought that meant something and as a child, she had clung to those moments; but she had recently begun realizing they meant nothing. Yet, they were undeniably the greatest of friends. Even though Jon Snow and Theon Greyjoy were in Robb's presence more often than her, it was she whom he would sneak out at night with to the godswood, she whom he would tackle into the hot springs, and she whom he would confide in late at night.

All that seemed for naught now though. Everything she would tell herself as she fell asleep to cheer herself whenever he didn't seem to return her affections were simply lies. Obviously, Margaery had never acted upon her desires or affections; logic would always win out whenever she had the desire to just grab that beautiful auburn hair and pull him into a kiss or to just stare endlessly into his stunning blue eyes. Now, she was even gladder than ever that she had never wasted her honor or even her first kiss on him; she would keep those for a man who truly deserved it. Robb, no matter how much he said otherwise, was no better than Theon Greyjoy; he was scum like all men.

The more Margaery thought of such things, the less focused she became on the book she had been reading. She had actually forgotten that she was trying to read a book in an attempt to quit worrying herself over the extremely long walk Robb and Erika Umber were on. They had been gone for nearly an hour; what could he possibly have been showing her? Well there was one thing he probably was showing her, but Margaery didn't want to think about that, nor was she going to allow that to happen. If Robb was going to dishonor Erika Umber and break Margaery's heart, then he was going to face her wrath and he was going to hear about exactly what she thought of him now. With this final thought, Margaery slammed the book shut and got up from her bed. She walked through the castle looking for the 'lovely couple' and finally found them walking from the glass gardens; Erika probably couldn't handle the cold of Winterfell and was too dainty to survive the north. Well… Margaery knew that wasn't the case. Last Hearth was further north than Winterfell, if anything Margaery was the dainty southern flower.

When she finally drew close to Robb and Erika, she saw her laughing ridiculously at something he said, as the whore snaked her hand from Robb's arm to his back, dangerously low on his back… Margaery could feel her Stark temper boiling inside her at that sight. While she was a Tyrell in blood, she knew a life at Winterfell had given her a touch of the wolfs-blood and she more mirrored her Stark host family, than her old Grandmother, who would spend half of every year in Winterfell.

However, that anger turned into satisfaction, as she looked to Robb's face and saw only disinterest and boredom. Robb seemed more interested in the wolf-pup in his other arm, than in Erika, and Margaery could feel a smirk growing on her face as she began approaching them from behind. That was until she saw the flower in Erika's hair and heard Erika say in between her dumb giggles "I must thank you again for the flower my Lord. It is beautiful. Don't you think you could get another for your wolf? I'm sure he would look even more adorable with some roses in his fur."

Robb had given her a blue winter rose. Robb only gave Margaery blue winter roses. That was his nickname for her; it had forever been his gift to her. The roses were one of her favorite things in the world; the only thing that connected her real home to her faraway ancestral home of Highgarden. Margaery could feel her stomach dropping and her heart breaking in the same instant, her body staggering back from the blow of his actions. She thought she was going to break down in tears. Margaery would rather have found Robb with Erika pinned against the wall and naked than this. At least then it could be accounted to solely lust, but this…Erika Umber was Robb's winter rose now, not Margaery. She must have let out a disgruntled sigh or cry, for both Robb and Erika turned around to look at her. The whore was eying her suspiciously, but she saw only concern in Robb's eyes. He seemed to be about to speak, when Margaery turned around and began hurrying back into the castle. Tears had begun welling in her eyes and she didn't want to show Robb or that Umber whore that she cared about either of them.

She had nearly made it to the door before she felt a strong hand grab her shoulder.

"Margaery, are you okay?" Robb asked, as she was turned around. She tried to fight the immediate comfort she felt at his touch and the butterflies in her stomach, but she truly couldn't.

"Of course my Lord, why wouldn't I be?" She responded, trying to appear at ease.

"Well you just ran off, you just called me my lord, and your nose is doing that thing where it scrunches up whenever you are upset." He said laughing. She inwardly cursed at how well he knew her, her mind raced as she tried to come up with a good excuse.

"Uhhhh." She managed to let out.

"Uhhhh? Come on, you know I hate seeing my winter rose sad. What's really wrong Margaery?" a smile still across his face. The nickname brought back a myriad of emotions for Margaery and she could only look back at him.

Robb's face slowly became more serious until his smile was replaced with a frown. "Margaery?"

She finally regained her composure and shouted out the first excuse she could think of "Its my moonblood".

Robb started laughing at those words. "Well I wish you would have just continued staring at me. Is it bad or…"

Margaery immediately relaxed, as she could see amusement creep back onto his face. "Its… Its actually my first one, so I wouldn't actually know."

Robb's expression sobered again and he just looked deeply into her eyes. Uncomfortable again Margaery tried to fill the silence "I know I shouldn't complain; every girl should eagerly await their change to womanhood, but it's extremely uncomfortable and… Apologies Robb, you do not want to hear of such-" before she could continue making a fool of herself, Robb pulled her into a swift and powerful hug, knocking her breath out of her. "Obviously I have never had one", she laughed at his jape, "but if you need anything at all, I am here, no matter how awkward it is."

Only he could make her feel so at peace with a few simple words. She nearly forgot about the business with the Umber girl until Margaery heard someone clear their throat behind Robb.

"My lord could we please continue our walk?" Erika Umber asked, her eyes narrowed towards Margaery. Robb left Margaery's embrace and looked back towards the Umber girl. Margaery tried straightening her dress and hiding her blush, as Robb looked concernedly back towards her. Margaery knew Robb needed to perform his lordly duty, no matter how uncomfortable it made her. "Of course Lord Robb will. I thank you for the comfort my Lord and I assure you that all is well." Margaery again turned and began walking away, already in a much better mood.

"Wait!" she heard Robb call out. She turned back to face him and was greeted with his wolf pup being shoved in her face. However, she recovered quickly, as any good lady would "Well hello Greywind."

"You take him for now." Robb told her, then leaned in and whispered "Erika only babies him; he can keep you entertained, while you deal with your little problem" with a large grin on his face. She playfully scoffed and took Greywind into her hands, "Of course my lord. I thank you again."

Robb only smiled and hesitantly took Erika's arm again. As they walked away, he looked over his shoulder towards her with an apologetic glance. She felt her insides warm as she caught his eye. His effect on her was truly remarkable and she couldn't help but continue thinking on the young lord, as she carried Greywind towards her room.

Yet, the closer she drew to her chambers, the more she grew worried. She could barely function when it came to him. She was devastated by even the thought of his spending time with another woman and Margery worried about her every word and action whenever she was around Robb. Margaery would someday be returned to the Reach and Robb would become Lord of Winterfell. She would only be a distant memory to him, a forgotten friend. As much as Margaery loved everything about Robb, she hated that she loved him just as much. She was both a Stark of Winterfell and a Tyrell of Highgarden, a highborn lady. She should not become weak at the knees simply because Robb entered the room; men should become nervous at her presence, not the other way around. Margaery snorted at herself; if her grandmother knew how hopelessly in love she was with Robb, she would knock her about until she saw sense. That was it! She would talk to her grandmother; the Queen of Thrones would know how to get over this silly crush. That's all it is, a silly crush. Yet, as soon as she even thought it, she knew that was a lie. Gods! She needed to reach her grandmother's chambers already.

Margaery hesitated as she finally reached the door to her grandmother's chambers. Well, her chambers whenever she was in Winterfell, which wasn't too often now. While Lady Olenna had stayed throughout the year when Margaery was younger, she had begun staying in Highgarden for longer periods as Margaery aged. Lord Eddard did not heed the Queen of Thorne's words as readily as her son apparently did and Lady Olenna preferred staying wherever she had the most influence. It was a trait Margaery shared with her grandmother; deep beneath her Stark honor and bluntness was a powerful desire for power. While the other Starks had always been painfully honest and straightforward, Margaery had always hid her feelings, not behind coldness like some northmen, but cunning and soothing words. It was one of the few things her grandmother was able to do up in the north. Margaery knew she was of the north, but she could still manipulate as well as most southerners. Her grandmother often said she has a gift for it and it is normally true, except when it comes to Robb. She never could hide her feelings from Robb and she could never make herself manipulate his feelings or his actions. Part of this could be attributed to Robb's ability to alleviate that urge to gain power. Robb listened to her and valued her opinion like no one else. Lord Stark clearly valued Lady Catelyn's opinion and Margaery silently thanked him every day that he had taught his son the value of a woman's opinion. Yet, with Robb it was far different; while Lord Eddard would simply take Catelyn's opinion into consideration, Robb seemed to hold Margaery's opinion over all else. He would sometimes allow her to overrule him; he gave her the power she needed. Obviously, that may all change if Margaery succeeded and married him. A man could easily take the advice of a friend without question, but that of his wife could not be seen outside the typical roles of man and wife in Westeros.

Finally, Margaery was able to knock on the door and await her grandmother's response. "Come in!"

Margaery pushed the door and entered the room. Margaery was unsurprised to find Jon Snow speaking with her grandmother. He had grown closer to his grandmother than Margaery ever had. Margaery had always followed Robb like a lost puppy as a child. Thinking back to it now, it was quite embarrassing. Yet, if she was honest with herself, she had never really stopped following him around like a lost puppy. Gods, she was pathetic; she buried her head in Greywind's fur, attempting to hide herself from her own stupidity.

"Why hello Margaery! How are you this fine day?" her grandmother asked, cheery as ever.

"Oh! I'm sorry. Am I interrupting? I can come back later grandmother." Margaery stated, somewhat unsure of what to do.

"Nonsense. Nothing this fool is saying is worth anything. Do you know what he said Margaery?" Olenna asked, glancing towards Jon Snow, who looked like he wanted to be anywhere but in Lady Olenna's presence at this moment. Margaery put on the fake smile that her grandmother loved so much "I haven't the slightest idea grandmother" giving an apologetic glance to Jon.

"He wants to join the night's watch! I thought I had beaten that notion out of him years ago, but here he comes bringing it up again. Hopefully…" she narrowed her eyes towards Jon "I have convinced him otherwise and I won't have to go up to that wall myself and beat him myself."

Jon Snow couldn't even meet her eyes and only looked to the ground, saying "Of course Lady Tyrell. I wouldn't dream of it. I know it was foolish. I just-"

"Good! I don't know if I could have made it up there. I have a hard enough time surviving up here. We wouldn't want you to be the one to put me in my grave, would we Jon Snow?"

"Of course not Lady Tyrell." He managed to stammer out.

"Besides, you will always have a place here. Your brother Robb will be lord of Winterfell one day and the only person he loves more than you is my granddaughter here." Margaery thought she was going to drop dead at those words. What could she possibly mean? Like a sister right? Her grandmother couldn't possibly think Robb loves her? Or maybe she knew Margaery loved him? Gods, she should just leave and go read her book. Lady Olenna continued to berate Jon, "as long as you are with your brother or your father, you will have a place here and if not, then you will have a place in Highgarden with me. Now off with you, I better not hear about this again." She shooed Jon away with those words and Margaery thought she saw a smile pass over both their faces. She didn't know how they had bonded, but it did seem that her grandmother had a great influence over Jon Snow and actually genuinely cared about his wellbeing.

Lady Tyrell turned back to Margaery "Please tell me you don't have some ridiculous idea too, no plans to join the silent sisters?"

"Of course not grandmother!" Margaery replied happily, placing Greywind down on the bed, causing Olenna to nearly jump from her seat.

"Oh! Why do you have that beast in here?" she said, a single eyebrow raised.

"He's not a beast grandmother? He's a direwolf, the sigil of this house. Besides, he would never do me any harm." Margaery said, laughing.

"You truly are one of them, my flowery wolf." Margaery sighed at the nickname; she couldn't tell if it was an insult or a compliment. "And yes, that wolf would never hurt you. Lord Robb would have it skinned alive if it did you harm."

Margaery was taken aback again by this. Her grandmother had twice insinuated Robb's affection for her, what could she know? "Uhhh… I don't think Robb could harm Greywind. He is part of him now."

"Nonsense. Now don't just sit there stammering, what is it?" Olenna asked, one eyebrow still raised. Margaery wasn't sure if that eyebrow ever left her upper forehead.

"Well it's my first moonsblood and I just wanted to get some advice on how to handle it." Margaery managed to lie. She had no idea how she was going to broach the topic of Robb with her grandmother, so she was ultimately trying to delay her grandmother.

Olenna only stared back at her for several moments. "I'm no fool dear. What is it truly? Something must be the matter if you managed to remove yourself from Lord Robb's presence for more than a few moments." Margaery again found herself at a loss for words. How is it that her grandmother could both address exactly what it was Margaery wanted to discuss and completely turn Margaery's mind upside down?

"Well grandmother, I… I" Margaery couldn't think of a lie quick enough before her grandmother once again interrupted her.

Lady Olenna laughed to herself before confusing Margaery even further "So you finally want to admit it to your old grandmother? It has taken you a while my dear."

Margaery knew she should not have come to her grandmother. She was now even more confused and upset. "Admit what grandmother?"

"You love Robb Stark?"

"What? Of course not? Why would you think that?" If it was so obvious, then Margaery did not want to discuss it with her grandmother. "I should return to my chambers, I am sorry to have bothered you grandmother."

"Oh sit down my dear Margaery. As hard as I tried, I could not prevent the Starks from making you embarrassingly honest. Subtlety, though a strong point of us Tyrells, has never been yours my silly girl. You may be able to manipulate these wolves, but in general you are hopelessly straightforward. I have known for many years that you loved that Stark boy."

Margaery put her face in her hands and shook her head. "I haven't the slightest idea of what to do grandmother."

"The same thing any woman should do when they are fond of a powerful and handsome man; bed him and make him yours."

Margaery couldn't stop herself from scoffing "Grandmother! I never said anything about…"

"Oh hush you foolish girl. Lust always comes before love. I am old, that does not mean I am ignorant of the desires of younger women. I was once a young woman too you know."

Margaery couldn't believe she was having this conversation with her grandmother. "It is hardly that simple grandmother and I would hardly say I am foolish!" she argued, her annoyance building.

"Ahh yes, and there is that Stark temper. You really are more wolf than rose. And yes I know, you are hardly an oaf like your Father; I have seen to that. If you did not carry this blind Stark honor, you may have surpassed my cunning. But back to Robb Stark. He is quite handsome. What do you plan on doing?"

"It is not just about him being handsome. He is my best friend. He has honor and bravery; he will be a wonderful lord." Margaery said whimsically, she knew she sounded like a foolish maiden, but she couldn't help it. She truly loved Robb Stark. "And what do you mean what do I plan?"

"Well I thought I taught you better than to blindly fall in love; let alone a man who isn't your, but alas in that too I have failed." She said sighing. "Really Margaery are you not smarter than that?"

"I know grandmother, but I just couldn't help it and now he is with that Erika Umber; I know the GreatJon wants a betrothal for them. I cannot stand it." She admitted, defeated.

"Erika Umber is nothing. Your grandfather was nearly betrothed when I got my hands on him and look at me now. You are a beautiful lady of House Tyrell, the Umber girl is merely an annoyance. Besides, you actually know Robb; an advantage I never had. But again Margaery, what are you going to do? I had always planned arranging a match between you and Robb, but Lord Stark was always so hesitant."

Margaery had not expected that. "You. You've been planning this?" she questioned, genuinely uncertain of what her grandmother would say next.

"Love? I never planned love. That is why you must make the plan now. If you simply craved his position and his name, then that I could help you with. Lady of Winterfell is a very respectable position for any Lady; it would have been a fine accomplishment. You are only luck I am here and not your father. My idiot son probably would have tried to make you queen. But now that you managed to fall in love with him and act like a blushing, idiot maiden, it is now ultimately up to you."

Margaery had grown impatient with her grandmother speaking in circles and she finally shouted "But I don't know! He thinks me like a sister!"

Olenna began laughing before standing and walking towards Margaery's side. "If you really think that, then you are a bigger fool than your father. You are a beautiful woman Margaery."

"I am hardly the next Cersei Lannister grandmother."

"True. But you are pretty nonetheless. Robb Stark may be many things to you, but he is first off a man and that thing dangling between his legs still controls his every thought. Get a hold of that and see if he truly thinks you like a sister-"

Margaery stood up and walked towards the door at these words, interrupting her saying "I will not seduce him like one of Theon's whores. I want to be his wife and his love, not a place to wet "That thing between his legs," finishing wryly.

"Well then you truly have only one option." Margaery perked up. "You must tell him." Her hope quickly dissipated and put her face back in her hands, sighing.

"Why would I do that if he doesn't think the same of me. It would only seek to embarrass me; I would barely be able to stand his presence if he were to know."

"The Starks see only on the surface sweet Margaery." Olenna said, lifting Margaery's chin so as she could look into her eyes "They are an honorable, kind, and compassionate family, but they cannot see anything which is hidden to them. The boy will never know or even recognize you as a beddable woman unless you tell him. If he still thinks you a sister after you reveal your affections, then you are better off without him; he would not be very bright."

"I don't think I can take that risk Grandmother. I don't know what I would do without his friendship." Margaery admitted, feeling lost.

"Well then keep wallowing you silly girl." She stated dismissively "Now come; we must prepare for the king's arrival. We cannot have you dressed in that boring grey garb you call a dress."

Margaery looked down at her current garb. She thought it was fairly stylish; it complimented her natural curves well. "This is only a northern style grandmother! It is normal."

"But you are a lady of house Tyrell; you are far from normal and if you want your Stark boy to begin noticing that you are a woman instead of a sister than a new southern dress cold truly do the job. Now help an old woman to the door. We have work to do."

Margaery could only follow her grandmother, as she walked to the door. She certainly didn't need her help and Margaery wasn't sure if her grandmother had even been any help to her. Margaery felt no better than before and she definitely had no more of a plan than before, which was to say… nothing.


	3. Chapter 2

**Guest: Thanks! Here it is! On time this time!**

 **XBolt51: I would say Robb, Ned, and Jon do the same. Robb never sees Theon's betrayal. Eddard never sees Littlefinger's betrayal. Jon obviously doesn't see his coming either. It's a common trope amongst the Starks that they trust too easily and are blind to a lot the betrayal around them.**

 **Ardvark: Yeah, the north would probably be more prosperous, but I frankly won't be getting into that much. Given that she was raised in the north as well; I think she would get along well with Arya better, but would still get along with Sansa as well. She'd be a good middle for both of the Stark daughters. To me at least, being raised by the Starks would change her feelings on seduction. It's a highly dishonorable thing to do, so it would disgust the Starks. Also, I think it would be far harder to seduce Robb, Jon, or Bran because of that. Joffrey is an idiot, who doesn't hold honor very highly, so I think besides Theon; it'd be way more difficult to seduce the Stark household.**

 **Guest: I do know it is only canon in the show. But two things. This is the TV fanfiction site, so that is the main canon I am adhering to here, even if I have read the books. Furthermore, I would guess, given the influence George RR Martin still has had over the storyline that the creators of the show wouldn't directly contradict him on something so major, leading me to believe that it will be canon in ASOIF in the future.**

 **Spectre4hire: Thank You. I'm really glad you enjoy it and really appreciate your extensive feedback; its really helpful for me. More Robb/Margaery is to come in the future, but I am trying to build up her angst about it. Glad to hear I did her emotions alright, for me it's a delicate balance of overdoing it and making it seem realistic, so good to hear I'm doing a solid job so far. I had always meant to have Olenna spending only part of her time in Winterfell and had simply forgotten to mention it in the prologue, but I thought an interaction between Jon and Olenna would be different and new. And I'm glad you're looking forward to more!**

 **Rebfan90: Thanks!**

 **The K1D: Yeah, Jon may be a side character for a while, but I wanted to set up what his role will be in this story, though he is definitely going to pop up every so often.**

 **Hi everyone. Surprisingly I am not late this week. Woo me. I'm glad everyone is enjoying the story and I can hardly believe that I have over 100 followers on the story! Anyways, the home schedule for me school's football home schedule is calming down now, so I will have more chances to write future chapters (I'm through the first 6 now), though I'm still keeping it down to a weekly release schedule until further notice, just to give both you guys and me some consistency with it. Anyways, here's the chapter; you're getting some Robb/Margaery interaction and the Royal family's arrival at Winterfell (incoming angst)! As always reviews are greatly appreciated!**

 **Chapter 2: Margaery Tyrell-The Next Day**

When her grandmother had first suggested that Margaery should try wearing dresses more in the southern style, she had thought it might be a good change… get her out of her current emotional slump… She was sorely mistaken. Margaery couldn't help but wonder how women in the south could live their entire lives in such an unruly gown. Whereas northern gowns were comfortable, warm, and practical, the southern ones were uncomfortable, cold, and impractical; suffice to say Margaery was not enjoying herself. Despite not having left the warmth of the keep, Margaery was already shivering and constantly had to fight the urge to scratch wherever the gown was too complexly sown. Her grandmother had assured her that the dress would be more comfortable than what she called "your drab northern rags", but even that was not the case. Admittedly, Margaery looked good… really good. This dress tightly stuck to her body, showing off all the right places, while accentuating her growing hips and bosom.

Even in that thought, Margaery was left unsatisfied, as she could not fight the feeling that she was dressed like a whore. Several servants had given her odd glances and whispered to one another as they walked away; something which Margaery was entirely unused to. No matter what her grandmother said, this was probably the last time she would ever wear a southern style dress; it made her feel so foreign. Besides, Margaery doubted the dress would have any real effect on Robb and did she even want it to? At that thought she quickly shook her head and frowned. Of course she wanted it to. Even denying it was pointless and lying to herself only served to worsen her agony.

Before she could continue pondering, she ran straight into a wall of flesh, snapping her away from her thoughts. "Gods! I'm sorry." She quickly apologized, trying to regain her balance, still unsure whom she had just attacked.

"Come now Margaery. No need for that. I was searching for you anyways." Margaery froze at recognition of the voice; of course it was Robb. He always appeared whenever she was consumed by thoughts of him. Margaery quickly relaxed when she finally registered what he had said; why would he be looking for her? Even the thought of him searching for her brought a blush to her face. Perhaps he had heard word that she was wearing a scandalous dress and wanted to see it for himself?

"Margaery? Are you alright?" He spoke again, concerned by her lack of response. She had been sitting there like a fool, not even trying to say anything! She quickly composed herself and turned around, thinking of a witty response. "Well it seems you have found me Robb Stark." She quipped, prompting a wry smile to spread across his face.

"Indeed I have." Robb responded, his eyes obviously wandering over her body, an unfamiliar expression on his face, perhaps one of approval? Margaery shuddered at the thought and decided to be bold, "How do I look today my Lord?" She quietly asked, dipping into an elegant curtsy.

Robb broke into laughter and again looked over Margaery before a frown crossed his face. "Well… you certainly do not look very Northern." He finally stated. That was certainly not the response Margaery had expected. Trying to cover her disappointment, Margaery continued with the conversation, asking "You said you were looking for me Robb?"

Robb seemed to be unaware of her question and only continued looking at her dress, a glazy look in his eyes. Margaery would pay anything to know what he was thinking, even more for it to be good. "Robb?" she repeated, unsure of her current predicament.

"What? Oh yes. Of course. I meant to ask if you would like to join me for a walk? The weather is lovely today." He finally managed to respond, still seemingly distracted.

"I would love to Robb." Margaery excitedly retorted. Though Margaery often took walks with Robb, it was not often that Robb sought her out for one. It was normally a more spontaneous occurrence. Perhaps, he had something to tell her… or maybe it was the dress. Margaery warmed at the idea and eagerly took Robb's arm. The two began walking side by side together through the halls of Winterfell until he suddenly stuttered out "You do look lovely today Lady Margaery. I failed to answer your previous question very well," a small grin growing on his lips.

Margaery couldn't help but blush at his kind words. "Lady Margaery?" She questioned with a strong hint of sarcasm "Since when have I been Lady Margery to you, Lord Robb?"

"Well since you started dressing like a southern lady, Lady Margaery. I hear ladies in the south hold manners in high regard." He japed.

"Perhaps, but you and I both know that I am no southern flower."

Robb warmly smiled at this and turned back to look ahead. "Aye, that you are not." He said with a distant look in his eye. Margaery frowned at Robb's reaction. Why did he have to be so damned mysterious? Margaery was now even less sure about what Robb would think of her new dress and he had already seen it.

The two continued talking about nothing of any importance until they finally entered the courtyard. Margaery instinctively shivered, her back unused to direct contact with the cold northern wind. Unsurprisingly, Robb immediately noticed and frowned, ready to play the honorable hero that he so often seemed to be for her.

"You're freezing Margaery." He stated, worry evident in his words.

"Nonsense. I think I am used to the cold Robb. I have lived here as long as you." She lied, trying to divert his attention.

"Never in such clothing. Come. We can return to the keep." He decided, pulling her back towards the warmth of Winterfell.

"No!" She shouted, louder than she had meant to. He jumped at her abruptness and concernedly looked into her eyes. Margaery shivered again, though this time not from the cold. She may have loved everything about Robb, but even if she didn't she would be unable to deny that his eyes were intoxicating, an inescapable sea of blue. She managed to respond before he lost herself in the infinite blue of his eyes "I would not have has cut our walk short for my own sake. We will continue on our stroll, Lord Robb." She finished, trying to ease his fears.

He seemed unconvinced until an idea must have crossed his mind, as his expression suddenly changed to one of excitement, and he quickened his pace back through the courtyard. Margaery's own excitement only matched his once she realized where he was taking her, her favorite place in Winterfell, the glass gardens. Most assumed that Margaery only enjoyed the glass gardens for their warmth like that in her lost home. Really, it was the flowers. Rumors held that the glass gardens once only housed plants for food, but that Lord Stark had dedicated half the gardens for flowers in order to give Margaery a piece of her home. Margaery had never had the courage to ask; she would be overwhelmed if Lord Stark had done her such a huge kindness. Yet, if that had been Lord Eddard's intention, then he had definitely succeeded. Thought she had no memory of her ancestral home of High Garden, she still longed for the home she had never really known. Margaery would always be a Stark in her heart and a Tyrell in blood; only in the glass gardens did she truly feel as if she were both at the same time.

Margaery could immediately feel the difference, once she and Robb entered the warmth of the glass gardens. Robb's pace only quickened once they were inside, as he led her deeper and deeper into the massive complex. Margaery had always found even the structure itself truly fascinating; its nature completely alluding her. Though in this instance, Margaery did not have time to linger, as Robb seemed eager about something. "What is the hurry Robb? Can't we enjoy the gardens?" She asked nervously.

"I want to do something first. Close your eyes."

"What? Robb? Why..?"

"Margaery. Trust me."

Margaery silently obeyed the command, still unsure of Robb's intentions. He was gone for only a second until she felt his hand gently push her hair behind her ear. Margaery nearly jumped at the contact, but quickly relaxed, safe in the knowledge that it was only Robb and her. Finally, he spoke, saying "I know this can be a rough time, so I thought I would try to cheer up my winter rose. Open your eyes."

She blushed at his use of her nickname. It was said with such affection and care that she could almost bring herself to hope that he may return her feelings. Robb had often complained of nick-names; he felt his father's "the quiet wolf" was an insulting misnomer and made Lord Eddard seem cold and distant. In that case, Margaery was in complete agreement with Robb; Lord Stark was a compassionate and social man, when he was around those he cared about. But, with her own nick-name, Margaery couldn't disagree more. She loved her nickname. Partially because it encompassed both her blood family and her real family so well, but mostly because Robb had given it to her.

When Margaery finally did open her eyes, she was met by Robb's own tentative stare, his blue eyes truly breathtaking. He then looked down to his own hands, Margery's eyes following his glance, where he was holding a singular blue winter rose. He shyly pushed her hair back again and placed the flower gently behind her ear, whispering "Perfect."

Margaery did not even have time to consider what he had meant by that before he grabbed her hand and began walking with her again.

"I thought I should give you one today with the King arriving and all. Erika Umber nearly held me at knife's point until I gave her one and then acted as if it was mine own idea." He said, chuckling.

Margaery was in such shock that she could not manage to even respond to Robb's words. He had not actually given Erika the flower! It was still something reserved only for her, she realized her dread washing away. She had been truly foolish. Of course Robb wouldn't give another girl a winter rose; they were resigned only for her.

He continued on "It didn't seem right for Erika Umber to have one, when the true winter rose of house Stark didn't."

"Thank you, Robb. Truly. You know how much I love them." She responded, emotion evident in her voice.

"She even stuck one in Greywind's fur! He is a dire-wolf, not some puppy. You have always seemed to understand that."

"What do you mean Robb?" She asked, filled with both hope and nervousness.

"Well. Despite his current size and appearance, Greywind is a direwolf, both noble and dangerous, the sigil of our house." He explained. Margaery's breath caught at the use of 'our', but quickly assumed it to be a slip of the tongue. He continued on, saying "You treat him as such. You don't coddle him like a normal pup. It is nice to see."

"Of course Robb. Anyone could see that Greywind will soon grow more fearsome and large; he may even dwarf you and me." She joked, secretly pleased with herself.

He laughed at her jape. "I would hope not, but few alive south of the wall have ever seen a direwolf, so maybe he shall. I only wish Lady Umber could understand that."

Margaery's happy mood immediately shattered. Why would Robb care how Erika Umber treated Greywind? Was she not returning to Last Hearth within the next days? Overcoming her worry, Margaery managed to articulate the question, asking "What does it matter what Lady Umber thinks, Robb?"

Robb laughed again, "Please Margaery. You are far more intelligent than I and even I can see what Lord Umber is attempting to do."

"Oh" was the only response she could manage, but Robb seemed not to hear her.

"I cannot deny her beauty, but ultimately it is my father's decision. My thoughts matter little when it comes to my marriage. Rather unfair, don't you agree?" He asked, looking longingly into the distance.

"It is the same for all high born children Robb. If we were of the small folk, then we could follow our hearts." Margaery responded, before quickly realizing her mistake. "If you were, I mean… yeah." She quickly stuttered, nervously breaking his grip. What did he mean by that? Did he hope his father would choose her, because she was beautiful? Why else would he care how Erika treated Greywind? He must want her to be his wife. Margaery shuddered at the thought and could feel herself becoming more defensive and distant. Whereas moments ago she had hoped that Robb might love her and that this walk could last forever, she now wanted to be anywhere but in Robb's presence.

"Margaery?" Robb asked, likely noticing her far-away stare.

"We really ought to ready ourselves, my Lord. The king will be arriving shortly." She coldly said.

"Oh. Yeah. Of course." He muttered, looking to the ground with what seemed like despair in his eyes. Yet, she must have imagined that, as it was quickly replaced with a confident grin. "If you will follow me my Lady, I believe we have a king to impress." He joked, again extending his hand towards her.

She hesitated, unsure of the contact, but she eventually relented, taking his hand again. There was something strangely comforting about having her hand in his. Though they were calloused and rough from years of practice in the tiltyards, they were always shockingly warm and far larger than her own. Her hand basically disappeared into his and she felt extremely safe, despite it only being a friendly gesture. They continued walking arm in arm, until they finally reached the main courtyard of Winterfell, where the rest of the Stark family, save Arya was already assembled.

Margaery loosened her grip on Robb's arm as they grew closer to the assembled crowd. She did not want to appear overly comfortable with Robb's touch; it would seem improper. Lady Stark had already made it clear that Margaery would be lying low during the King's stay; she did not need to bring any unwanted attention to the Tyrell of Winterfell. The King still held great contempt for her family, even though he had never fought in the Reach or at Storm's End. Margaery finally left Robb's grasp and found her spot next to Theon, not her ideal companion.

Theon greeted her with the usual sneer and a simple "My Lady." Margaery had never known for sure, but she held the suspicion that Theon resented her for being the ward closest to the Stark family. Though Robb likely spent more time with Theon, everyone knew that Robb and her were far closer. A curt "Theon" was her only response, as she could feel his eyes moving up and down her body, likely undressing her every second. Perhaps, the southern dress was not such a good idea.

"I must say this dress is a welcome change from your usual attire. I'd say I would be willing to even bed you now." He arrogantly spat out. Gods, why couldn't she stand with the Starks, instead of this fool. Instead of encouraging him, Margaery decided to stare onwards; her glance naturally falling upon Robb, who appeared to be in a rather heated exchange with his mother. Finally, Lord Eddard seemed to have the final word and ended the argument, resulting in Robb happily turning around and walking towards her.

"Lady Margaery" He formally greeted her. "There has been a mistake. Come take your spot next to me."

"What? Robb? I was told by your mother to stand behind the family." She questioned, forgetting her formalities, not that Robb would care; he never did.

"Nonsense. You are just as much a part of Winterfell as I." He stated, trying to alleviate her fears. She knew he couldn't possibly mean it, but the sentiment was nice. She nervously took his hand, for what felt like the dozenth time that day, and was escorted to the front row with the Stark family. Sansa greeted her with a small smile and shifted to the left without complaint. Only Lady Stark seemed perturbed by her presence, as she gave Margaery a cold glare, her lips pursed.

The Stark family stood in silence, awaiting the arrival of the King, until little Arya ran up in a war helmet. Though she could be quite a hassle, Margaery could not help but appreciate Arya's rebellious, youthful vigor. Margaery had once been just as stubborn, often trying to spend all her time with the boys, well Robb mostly, but she had eventually outgrown it and created a balance of being a lady and a rebel. That was something Margaery was unsure Arya would ever do, but after the little girl exchanged some words with her father, she seemed to calm and took her place next to little Bran.

Margaery was startled from her thoughts by the sudden sound of horses thundering through the gate. First in were a tall blonde man and a similar looking blonde youth, both of whom arrogantly surveyed the courtyard around them. This must be the Kingslayer and his nephew 'Prince' Joffrey. Margaery had heard they were both royal pricks and their judging gaze only seemed to confirm the idea. But where was the King? Margaery began shaking at the thought of seeing Robert Baratheon. She couldn't help but be terrified by the idea of meeting him. She only had to think of the Targeryens or the Greyjoys to know what Robert Baratheon did to the families he hated and hers was certainly one of them. Her hands, held politely behind her back, were nearly uncontrollably shaking now; her apprehension growing more and more.

"Margaery." Margery nearly jumped at the voice, Robb's voice. She looked to her right and saw Robb's sympathetic stare. "Everything is okay. I am here." He assured her, even going as far as gently squeezing her hand, still behind her back, before quickly letting go and returning to his previous position. They still had to maintain their composure before the King and although it was such a small gesture, she immediately calmed, her hands ceasing their shaking.

Finally, a massive man with an unruly beard left the center carriage and began stomping towards the Starks. Margaery had to stifle a gasp. This was Robert Baratheon? He seemed like a fat drunkard, not the powerful hero she had heard so much about. Behind him, walked the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. At least Cersei Baratheon lived up to the tales; her beauty was truly astounding. Margaery could also catch the sight of two children peeking from behind Lady Cersei's dress, almost as if they were scared to see the northern brutes stood before them. Margaery almost laughed at the thought. If she had lived in High Garden or the south for her entire life, she likely would have held similar sentiments.

The king finally stood before Lord Stark and looked him up and down, Lord Stark doing the same.

"You've grown fat." The King barked out, almost as if hiding a belch. This time Margaery could not contain her gasp, nor could many others. Surely the King must have known the irony in his statement. Lord Stark seemed to be the only man, who did not seem amused, as he simply looked down towards the King's gut and pointed. Thankfully, both men broke into laughter and embraced, greatly easing the tension in the courtyard.

The king then moved on and greeted both Lady Catelyn and Robb, before standing in front of her. His eyes seemed to immediately catch on Margaery, a crazed expression crossing his face. Robert Baratheon stared blankly at her for what felt like an eternity, before Margaery realized she had completely forgotten her courtesies. She hurriedly bent down in a curtsy, greeting him with a simple "Your Grace."

He still stared at her, not at her eyes, but seemingly at the flower in her hair. He whispered something, which Margaery could not make out. After another moment, Robb interceded, likely in an attempt to save her, formally introducing her by saying "Lady Margaery of House Tyrell, your grace. Ward of Winterfell." Margaery would have to thank Robb later, as the King seemed to wake from his daze and moved down the line of Starks.

Margaery did not even have the chance to contemplate the King's odd behavior before the Queen stood before her, an arrogant look matching that of her twin's and son's on her face. Margaery again dipped into a low curtsy, muttering another "Your Grace," likely more curtly than she should have. The queen either failed to notice or did not care, as she began looking over Margaery, as if judging her, before responding in turn. "You must be Lady Margaery of House Tyrell. I see tales of your beauty have not been unfounded."

Tales of her beauty? Margaery knew of no such tales. Likely, the queen was only attempting to flatter her. "Thank you, your grace. I am unsurprised to be able to say the same to you." She responded sarcastically. Queen Cersei was not the only Lady, who knew how to use kind words to her own benefit. Lady Cersei merely nodded her thanks and walked on to Sansa, who was much more excited by her presence.

Next came Joffrey, who looked over Margaery's body much like his mother had, likely for very different reasons. Margaery went through the motions of a formal greeting, but was growing increasingly distracted by the Princess Myrcella, who was greeting Lady Catelyn, but obviously had her thoughts elsewhere. The girl could not take her eyes off Robb. She practically dismissed Lady Stark and hurried towards Robb, who was completely unawares. He bowed his head slightly and greeted her "Princess Myrcella."

"Lord Stark" she responded shyly.

"You look radiant Princess. I am honored to meet you." Robb returned, formally.

The princess's face turned a deep red at his words. "It is radiant… I mean, You look radiant as well Lord Stark… wait. Apologies, my Lord I am making a fool of myself." She stammered out, clearly embarrassed.

"Nonsense. You could never look a fool to me Princess." Robb responded with his kind smile, bringing her hand up to his lips and placing a gentle kiss upon them.

Princess Myrcella practically swooned at his actions. "You are too kind to me my Lord." She said, not believing his words.

"Please princess. For you, it is only Robb." He kindly answered. Margaery nearly blanched in her mouth at Robb's words. She could not tell if Robb was either being kind to the poor young girl or trying to net himself a princess. Margaery knew it was likely only the first one, but telling the princess to use his first name seemed like an unnecessary gesture, if he was simply attempting to be nice.

The princess meanwhile, only blushed an even deeper red and looked down to her feet. She didn't appear to realize that she had been standing before Robb for a rather long time and was holding up the royal procession. Robb noticed thankfully and motioned for her to move along, which she again failed to notice.

"My Lady. It looks like we must continue our conversation later. You must meet the rest of my family."

The princess began looking all around and noticed the stares from the other people in the courtyard. She panicked, but still moved nowhere, until she regained her composure and managed to respond "I would love to my Lord," placing great influence on the love. Margaery snorted. With how young she is, the princess probably already did love him. She seemed to be looking at him as though she did.

Margaery could hardly blame the young girl. Robb looked every bit the part of a handsome knight. Though northerners could not be knighted, Margaery had no doubt that Robb both would be a wonderful knight and look as noble and gallant as any. Robb's very gaze could make women swoon ; his blue eyes both beautiful and piercing. Then, Robb had to go and likely grow the idea in the Princess' head by being incredibly kind and understanding, the bastard. Margaery nearly laughed aloud at her own stupid jealousy. She was growing angry at Robb for simply being nice; he likely had no idea what effect he was having on the girl. The princess was 6 years his juniors and he likely only saw her as a sweet little girl. Obviously, it was not a shared sentiment, but that was not any fault of Robb's.

At least Robb had not gone and given her a winter rose. If he had done that, Margaery would have been beyond irate. She was unsure of if she would have even been able to contain her emotions in front of the royal family. It would not have reflected well on her if she had murdered the heir to Winterfell in their presence. Perhaps, if she had simply castrated him they would not have cared. She may have even been able to get a laugh from the queen. That would have been a grand accomplishment, if the stories of her aloofness were true.

For Robb's sake she was glad it had not come to that. She was still his winter rose. Margaery only wished this damned royal procession could move on, so that she could get him away from Myrcella Baratheon and show him why she had earned the affectionate nickname. The feast just needed to be over with already; she wanted to simply fall asleep and wake up after this visit.


	4. Chapter 3

**Guest: I was thinking more in terms of them not wanting to be knighted in the Light of the Seven, so you are probably correct.**

 **Spectre4hire: Thanks! And we shall have to see if it is more than one-sided. Sadly, there is still gonna be angst, but do not worry there will be lots of happiness for Margaery as well. Thanks about the dress comments and it actually will be a continuing theme. Robb just sees Margaery as an important part of the family too. Thanks for the review as always!**

 **TimtimWantDindin: Glad you think so!**

 **Aardvark: Yeah, the crush is supposed to be childish, but her position gives it some credence. And Catelyn's harshness wasn't so much a result of dislike, but more of Robb Stark breaking protocol than anything. Those are all different types of seduction then that associated with Margaery (Margaery often did it for political purposes, whereas Ygritte and Jeyne/Talisa, not so much). To be honest, I just hadn't thought much about the relevance of her mother, so yeah that would have been a possibility. Other people connected the dots about the king, mostly about the blue roses reminding him of Lyanna. Thanks for the review!**

 **Guest: Thanks!**

 **DoNotPanic: Yeah, in the show she tends to get her way in such situations, so I just assumed she would have a strong jealous side given her personality.**

 **Heather is feather: As do I, especially in the show.**

 **The K1D: Yeah, I took Myrcella and Robb and ran with it, will continue in this chapter, but I've always found that scenario kind of interesting, because given Robb's position and stuff; it would not be that shocking for her to have a crush on him like that.**

 **Rebfan90: Thanks!**

 **Hey everyone! Sorry about how late this is, but it's been a real busy week for me and the school year has been getting somewhat intense, which prompts me to ask, would you all rather have shorter chapters that are guaranteed to come out once a week or the possibility of needing a two week break in between each? I hate to do it and I very well may not have to, but I just want to get your guys' input in case I must do it. Anyways, thanks for the reviews as always! I actually changed some minor stuff around based upon them this time. Also! I can't believe this has over 100 favorites and 150 follows! That's more than I ever expected to have in this story, let alone 3 chapters in! So thank you so much for the support and I'm glad people are enjoying it. Frankly, because of how hectic my life is right now, the only thing keeping me on this is you guys, so thank you so much! Anyways, here is the next chapter!**

 **Chapter 3: Margaery Tyrell-Later that Day**

"Shut up Theon," Margaery commanded, tired of the Greyjoy boy's pestering.

"Gods. Fine Margaery. I didn't want to escort you either; no reason to be angry at me about it," he meekly responded, probably a bit hurt from her harshness.

It wasn't Margaery's fault that she was in a poor mood though, yet it wasn't Theon's either. It was Robb again. Well not actually Robb, nor was it Myrcella Baratheon really, more so the situation they found themselves in. Robb always escorted Margaery to any feast held at Winterfell. She had never known why, whether his mother or father told him to, or if he had always done it by his own choice, but he always had nonetheless. Normally, Margaery was at her happiest at the feasts. She was the center of Robb's attention and she could freely him close to herself without giving the wrong impression. Well… not the wrong impression; only an impression she did not want others to pick up on. Yet, today, at the biggest feast Winterfell had likely seen in decades, she was being escorted by Theon fucking Greyjoy. Not a good substitute.

She understood why Robb was escorting Myrcella and it was better her than Erika Umber, who seemed even more incensed than Margaery, but it did not mean Margaery had to be happy about it. It was his lordly duty to escort whomever his parents commanded him to escort and as the highest unmarried lord in attendance, it made perfect sense for him to escort the princess. He just didn't need to act so pleased about it. Robb's smile had not left his face since he had taken the princess's arm. He seemed to be acting as his normal wonderful self, constantly japing and causing the young princess to laugh and blush a deep red throughout their entire conversation. Before they had even begun the walk to the feast, the princess had looked up towards Robb in such a way that Margaery knew her suspicions were correct; the young princess was madly in love with him. Not that Robb would even notice. He was acting completely normally and while many women would fall in love with the everyday Robb, he had no concept of the effect he had on women. Seven hells, Margaery had loved him for years and he was completely oblivious to it.

While earlier Margaery had been able to dismiss Myrcella for her young age, it was becoming increasingly difficult to do so now. Robb seemed to legitimately enjoy her company. While with most ladies that were forced upon him Robb would play the good lord and maintain his stoic lordly manner, with Myrcella he seemed worryingly… normal. That was what bothered Margaery more than anything. Robb could be Robb with Myrcella and he had only just met her. Margaery knew she was likely being foolish. It was probably only because of the age difference; she was a child. But she also could not deny that there was still reason to be concerned. She was a princess, the most desirable ladyship in all of Westeros, a fine match. That did not even address her beauty. Though she was only a child, Margaery could already see the potential of the young girl. With a mother like Myrcella had, she would undoubtedly become one of the most beautiful women in all of Westeros. Robb would be a fool not to see the potential: beauty, power, and wealth in a girl, who already loved him. If he were a more ambitious and frankly, smarter man, he would try to get a betrothal out of her now, when she was still young and naïve.

But Margaery knew he wasn't. Robb was just being friendly, trying to entertain a young girl, who was far away from her home. Margaery's worry wasn't Robb's intentions though. It was Lord Stark and the King's that she worried for. As the couples made their way into the great hall, Margaery could see Lord Stark and his friend look approvingly at Robb with Myrcella, while sharing a whisper. Everyone in the seven kingdoms knew that Robert Baratheon wanted to unite his house with the Stark's and the future Lord Paramount of the North was a fine match for a princess; few would be better. Robb would probably be betrothed by the end of the evening and Myrcella would return to marry him as soon as she had her moon's blood, likely at the age of 12 like most real woman.

Margaery snorted at herself with that thought. She was being ridiculous. In the course of one day, Margaery had gone from being convinced that Robb would abandon her for Erika Umber to being certain that he would do so with Myrcella Baratheon. Margaery really needed to get control of her obsession with Robb or she would not survive whenever he did get married.

When Margaery did finally arrive at her seat, she was relieved to see it was with the Stark family. Theon and Jon were sat amongst the men and she had dreaded the same fate. The last thing she wanted after such a stressful day was to be harassed by drunken Stark bannermen. If Robb saw one of them, he would likely kill him and start war in the North; no matter their relationship, Robb was fiercely protective of her. She had assumed Lady Catelyn would try to again disassociate her family from Margaery, but it looked like she had a change of heart. Instead, she was sat with Sansa and Arya. Margaery might have rather sat with the drunkards in the crowd.

The meal itself was uneventful. The typical northern fare she had grown up eating. Really, the only events of note were Arya throwing food at Sansa and the King blatantly fondling some serving wenches, though Margaery knew that neither of these were very rare events. Margaery mostly conversed with Sansa over their new dresses; Sansa was very in favor of Margaery's new southern styles, but was clearly distracted by the prick, Prince Joffrey. Arya and Bran bickered over some nonsense that Margaery didn't understand with the baby Rickon occasionally babbling his own incoherent response. To Margaery's dismay, Robb mostly spent his time in the presence of the Princess Myrcella. Margaery would have assumed that Robb would eventually grow weary of the young girl's presence, but he seemed to be enjoying the feast far more than Margaery. He had not so much as looked at Margaery during the feast, let alone shared words with her. Normally, Robb and herself would completely ignore the rest of the Starks and simply enjoy each other's company during family meals. That was obviously not the case now that Princess Myrcella was here.

After some time, the music began and the hall cleared for dancing. Margaery's mood lighted at that; Robb always danced with her. No matter what ladies were present in Winterfell, Robb would dance with her and they were always so wonderful. The feel of his hands on her back, the swift movement of their feet, the knowledge that he was focused on her and only her: it was all amazing. Margaery waited apprehensively at her spot at the table, practically begging Robb to come ask her. She sat quietly with her hands folded in her palms, awaiting his arrival; surely he would come.

When she finally grew impatient, she glanced over towards him and saw him whisper something into Myrcella's ear. The young girl eagerly began shaking her head and took his hand, practically running towards the center of the hall. Margaery could hardly believe her eyes. Robb had asked Myrcella to dance, not her. How could he do this? Tears welled up in Margaery's eyes, before she quickly willed them away. She would not cry over Robb Stark on this day or any day after that. It mattered little with whom Robb danced. He did not matter to her... It seemed Margaery had been attempting to convince herself of that quite often recently.

Despite her best attempts, Margaery could not keep her eyes off the young couple as they made their way to the dance floor. The crowd parted for the heir to Winterfell and the crowned princess. How could they not? They were a match straight from the mouths of the bards, the young beautiful princess and her noble, protective knight. The song was a fast one and Robb quickly began swinging her across the dance floor, both laughing as they did so. Myrcella was a talented dancer, far better than Margaery had ever been. Likely, she had more opportunity for practice in the capital than Margaery did in Winterfell. Throughout the dance, Myrcella would not wipe that damned grin off her face or cease staring up at Robb with such love; it made Margaery want to vomit. Such love stories did not happen in real life. They were only stories. Yet, here Myrcella Baratheon had already found her prince within a day of meeting him, while Margaery was hopelessly alone, failing to have capture his attention having had years to do so.

The song ended and Margaery hoped that Robb would escort Myrcella off the escort, having fulfilled the requirement of sharing a dance with the princess. Instead Robb pulled Myrcella towards him and held her lower back, beginning a far more intimate dance as the music became slower and more relaxed. The Princess rested her head against Robb's chest and followed his lead. Margaery scoffed; didn't she knew how inappropriate that was? Sure, Margaery would often hold Robb close and do the same, but she was practically a member of his family. Myrcella had no right to touch him like that. Robb must have whispered something to Myrcella, as she appeared to let out a sigh and began giggling. What could he possibly be telling her? Likely some sweet murmurings of love. Perhaps Robb did see the potential in a betrothal with Myrcella. Would he really try to win the favor of a girl as young as Myrcella? She certainly already loved Robb; he could definitely gain her approval of a betrothal at this time. Margaery looked again to Robert Baratheon and Eddard Stark, who were both clearly watching Myrcella and Robb amidst a seemingly serious conversation. They were probably already finalizing the terms of the betrothal. Typical.

Finally and thankfully, the song ended and Robb finally returned Myrcella to her family. The queen seemed extremely displeased with what she had just witnessed and pulled the princess from Robb's hold, much to the little girl's dismay. Margaery might have gained some reassurance by this display, if she hadn't known that the queen's thoughts mattered little. Robert Baratheon would do whatever he pleased with his daughter, even send her far away to the north; especially with Myrcella having no apparent complains about the possibility of the match.

At least Robb would come dance with her now. Margaery again waited patiently for him, before the king himself approached her.

"Hey girl!" He managed to say between burps. Margaery knew this couldn't be good, but she did not forget her courtesies and immediately stood only to dip into a curtsy.

"Your Grace. Do you have any need of me?" She asked worriedly.

"How'd you get that flower?" He belched, pointing to the winter rose in her hair.

"Lord Robb gifted it to me, your grace. He knows I am very fond of them." She told him, unsure of what he really wanted.

"Lyanna used to love them. She would always smile so brightly whenever I gave her one." He said sadly, looking into his glass.

Margaery didn't know how to respond to him. She had never imagined the King to be capable of such feelings. Only several moments before, he had been seducing one of the maids in front of his own wife. Though the man had started a war for his Lyanna, it shouldn't surprise her.

"I must apologize for my behavior when we first met." He continued. "I saw the rose and could think of nothing but my Lyanna. I still miss her to this day."

"I am truly sorry your grace. I am sure you both would have been quite happy." She said, trying to console him.

"Aye." He responded sadly. "Let this sad old king be a lesson to you, if you ever find love like I had with Lyanna… don't lose it."

Margaery again found herself at a loss for words, but the king did not seem to notice and drunkenly stumbled off without another sound. That was oddly profound, Margaery thought to herself. Of all the people, who Margaery had expected to gain comfort from, King Robert Baratheon was not among them.

With a renewed sense of confidence and purpose, Margaery stood up to walk towards Robb himself. If he would not ask her, then she would ask him to dance, no matter how pathetic that would be. It was time she followed her grandmother's advice and finally did something about it, instead of wallowing in self-pity. All of Margaery's confidence immediately slipped away, when she finally reached his spot only to find him gone. She began searching the room and quickly found him again in center of the hall dancing… with Erika Umber. Only Robb was capable of Margaery feeling even worse about herself than before. Myrcella Baratheon was bad enough, but at least that could be explained away to her status as a visiting princess. The only reason Robb would be dancing with Erika Umber over Margaery is if he wanted to or was told to do so by his father; both of which weren't good.

Margaery had had enough of this obnoxious display. Who did Robb Stark think he was? She was a Tyrell of High Garden, one of the most wealthy and powerful families in Westeros. He should treat her with more respect and at least show her the courtesy of a dance, something which had long been established in their time together. But… mostly she thought that she mattered more to him than this. He must know that she would want to dance or at the least speak with him during the feast, but he had spent all his time with the princess, Myrcella Baratheon. Would he really rather spend his time in the presence of a child, whom he just met, or his best friend. Maybe, she wasn't actually his best friend and she had always thought herself more important than she really was. Maybe she misunderstood his friendship, even the walk they had taken that very morning.

Margaery knew she could no longer stand being in the great hall. She ripped the rose from her hair and threw it down on the table. It obviously meant more to Margaery than Robb had meant it to. Looking down at the now smashed flower, Margaery could feel tears welling up in her eyes. She quickly wiped them aside and began running from the table, out the main doors; she would not cry for Robb Stark.

As she made her way from the hall, she slowed down into a walk. She did not want any curious member of House Stark noticing anything was the matter with her. She only wanted to reach her chambers and try to sleep away her sorrows. Everything would be better on the morrow. However, in her urgency to cross the courtyard, she didn't see the man in front of her, whom she immediately crashed into, sending him staggering back. She looked to the boy's face and apologized profusely, "Jon! I'm so sorry. I didn't see you there and I was just in…"

"Aye. No one seems to see me, my lady." He muttered back to her, clearly drunk.

"What do you mean Jon?" Margaery asked, unsure of what else she could say.

"Lady Stark would not let me sit with the Stark family… my family. She said it would disgrace her and disrespect the royal family to have a bastard seated at the main table." He quietly responded, despondent in his words.

"Oh Jon. Theon was not seated with the family. Do not take her actions personally. Everyone knows the Queen is a royal bitch." She finished, trying to lighten his mood.

He didn't seem to notice the attempt at a jape and curtly responded, "You were sat with the family."

Margaery was taken aback by his words. Surely he wasn't angry with her for having been sat with the family. "Jon. My father is warden of the south and Lord of the Reach. It would be dis…"

"That's not why you were sat with the family." He cut in angrily.

"What? Of course it was Jon, he…"

He interrupted her again. "Lord Robb, in all his wisdom, demanded you be sat with the family. Argued with Lady Stark for some time over it. Said you deserved to be sat with the family, you've lived in Winterfell just as long as he, he said."

Oh. Margaery hadn't expected that. Did Robb really want her at the main table so badly? But then why would he go out of his way to ignore her and spend his time with Myrcella and Erika Umber? Was it meant as some kind of slight? To show her that he didn't need her? Even in her angry state, Margaery knew he would never do such a thing. Robb was too straightforward to hurt her in such a passive aggressive manner… not that he had ever tried hurting her in any kind of matter.

"Jon. I am sure Robb was just reminding his mother of the political ramifications of…" She tried to reason with him.

"Margaery. We both know that is not why. Everyone knows Robb cares for you more than anyone else… even me… his brother." Jon argued back.

Wait. Everyone knows that he cares for Margaery more than anyone else? Margaery herself didn't even know that. Had Robb told Jon that or was Jon simply attempting to aggravate her. "Jon. That is not true. You are his greatest friend. Robb loves you."

Jon only looked to the ground. "Obviously not" He whispered.

"No. Jon Snow. Stop this immediately." Margaery commanded, boldly lifting his chin up, so that she could look him in the eyes. They were so confused and filled with anguish. "If this has to do with your ludicrous desire to join the Night's Watch, I will slit your throat and then go cut Robb's, Arya's, Bran's, and Lord Stark's hearts out myself. You are wanted here. You are loved here. As long as Lord Stark lives, you will have a home here. As long as Robb lives, you will have a home here and you will forever be at his right-hand. As long as Winterfell stands, you will be a Stark of Winterfell, and if it falls, you will still be a true Stark. I will hear nothing else on this."

Jon again looked down to his feet. "That's not true." He grumbled.

"Jon Snow. Yes it is. I will get your brother over here and he will tell you so, if I must. Do you understand me?" Margaery stated, resolute in her position. This was not an argument Margaery was willing to lose. "My grandmother already threatened to beat you if you left the Starks, do I have to do the same?" She questioned, when he made no response.

"No my lady." He said, seemingly with more cheer than before.

"Jon. You are a brother to me. I would gain no happiness if you were to go to the wall, nor would any other member of the family… besides Lady Catelyn." She ended with a smile.

Jon chuckled at that, his mood clearly lightened. "Maybe Sansa too." He joked, looking back at Margaery with his own grin.

"And maybe Sansa." Her smile growing wider.

Since you are out here, I'm guessing Robb is either with the Princess or Lady Umber." Jon said seriously.

"What? What are you talking about?" Margaery responded, shocked. Surely he could not have noticed this too?

"You're out here looking upset, your rose is no longer in your hair, and Robb is for once not escorting you to your chambers after a feast." Margaery's eyes widened at his last reason, but he only continued. "You never get rid of the roses that Robb gives you, even once they start wilting. Lady Stark would scold you when we were younger for the smell they would give off. I may be a bastard, but even I can see all that."

Margaery looked around the courtyard, as if searching for someone to save her. "That's… that's not true. You know nothing Jon Snow" She stammered, unsure of what she was actually going to say. **(I know… I couldn't help it. Plus, it sets up this next line really well.)**

"Margaery please. That may be true. But I do know this; you love Robb and he will never realize that he loves you until you say something to him. I love my brother and he is a great man, but he can be blind when he wants to be, especially with those he cares about." Jon explained, his voice delicate.

"Cares about… not loves." Margaery responded, her voice but a whisper.

"I truly do not know if Robb loves you yet. But Robb cares about you more than anyone else in this world and that includes me, and Erika Umber, and Myrcella Baratheon." Jon said, again making eye contact with her, his eyes now devoid of their former sorrow.

Margaery truly did not know what to say to him, so she settled for rushing towards him and pulling him into a hug, hardly the lady-like thing to do. "Thank you Jon."

"Quit hugging me and go find Robb, Margaery" Jon joked. "Robb is not bright enough to realize that he should distance himself from Erika Umber. She may be beautiful, but he cannot stand her presence. If Lord Stark see him with her too often, he will think Robb likes her and will set up a match."

Margaery pulled away from Jon and nodded. Of all the people, whom she had expected to both cheer her and convince her to confront Robb, Jon Snow was not one of them. She quickly began walking to the great hall, attempting to not appear in a hurry. When she returned to the hall, she was shocked to find it nearly empty. All that remained were a few stragglers and some maids, who were beginning to clean the massive mess. Neither, Robb, Myrcella, nor Erika Umber were anywhere in sight. Margaery had missed him; she couldn't believe it.

Before she could worry herself too much, she felt a poke in the back. Margaery nearly jumped and spun around, only to find Robb there holding her rose.

"I found this on the table, when I went to look for you. I've never seen you lose one of these before." He said with a quite smile, though Margaery thought she could see a hint of sadness in his eyes. He again put it back in her hair. "There. Right where it belongs." He continued, looking into her eyes before turning back to the hall. "I was saving you the last dance. Though it appears I am too late."

He had saved her a dance! Margaery lightened at the idea, but knew that it was truly too late. The music was no longer playing. Angry at herself for leaving early, she tried to divert his worry. "That is alright Robb. I've grown tired from the long day. With the king and my moonsblood, it has been quite exhausting." She joked, before inwardly cringing. Why did she have to mention her blood again? Robb was not interested in her womanly bodily functions.

He didn't seem to notice, either that or he was simply ignoring it for her sake. "I have an idea" He finally said with a smirk on his face and playfulness in his eyes.

"Robb. I don't know. It is already late; it might be improper." Margaery said hesitantly, trying to find an excuse to end this trying day.

"Improper? Since when have you ever acted properly dear Margaery?" He joked, trying to lighten her mood as always. He took her hand and began pulling her from the great hall. It seemed there was nothing she could do about it. Not that she could ever help herself, whenever it came to Robb.

This back and forth happened for some time, with Robb dragging her through Winterfell, and her occasionally voicing her complaint, which he would disregard with a joke. When they reached the courtyard, Margaery already had a solid idea of Robb's destination, but why would he be bringing her to the glass gardens? She still had her rose.

"Robb what are we doing?" She asked, more curious then against the idea.

"You're not a very patient rose, are you Margaery" He japed again, giving her the same grin.

Finally, when they arrived at the flower garden section of the structure, he stopped and turned back to her. He put on his lordly face, as she liked to call it, and Margaery had to stifle a giggle.

"My Lady." He said, pulling her hand towards his lips and placing a lingering kiss upon them. "Would you give me the honor of a dance?"

Margaery's face must have been the color of a cherry; she blushed more deeply than she could ever remember. "Robb… there's no music to dance to." She murmured, unsure of herself.

He didn't respond, still holding her hand, before pulling her into his arms and beginning to sway. Margaery was shocked by the closeness; this certainly wasn't the normal dance that Margaery and Robb shared. Robb only led her back and forth across the room, swaying side to side in the simplest dance she had ever seen.

It was then that Margaery realized her current position. Robb had brought her to her favorite place in all of Winterfell, going out of his way to give her a dance, the most romantic dance she had ever been a part of. "There's still no music." Margaery joked, looking up to him, before resting her head back on his chest.

"As you command, my lady." He whispered to her, before beginning to hum a song. Quite impressively, his movements began mirroring his humming, but Margaery was more focused on the wonderful feeling of Robb's vibrating chest against her cheek. It was perhaps the most comforting feeling Margaery had ever experienced in her life.

They danced like this for some time before Margaery realized that this was the time. Just as her grandmother and Jon told her, she needed to tell Robb how she felt and she was so sure of it; she loved Robb Stark. It was not just in this moment, but in every moment they shared. Robb could take her breath away with his simplest gestures or words. This wonderful, romantic moment was beyond words for Margaery to describe.

"Robb…" She whispered under her breath, to no response.

She gained a little more confidence and whispered again, "Robb… I"

"Shhh" Robb interrupted. "I've had to listen to Erika Umber's incessant blabber for the last few days."

Margaery raised her eyebrow at this. "But you've spent so much time with her. Why would you do that if you dislike her?"

"My father's orders." Robb responded, still swaying, though no longer humming, much to Margaery's dismay. "I think he wanted to arrange a betrothal, but I told him at the end of the feast that I didn't want one. She may be beautiful, but I frankly cannot stand her company. I had no choice but to be nice to her though; it's my lordly duty." He finished.

Margaery smiled. Her hopes were fulfilled; Robb wanted nothing to do with her. Jon was right too. She would have to thank him on the morrow. "She cannot possibly be that bad," Margaery said, laughing.

Robb chuckled as well, before continuing "She is. If I had to hear her allude to my bedding her again, then I may have had to slit my own throat. I doubt my father would be happy then."

Margaery blushed at his bluntness, before being overcome with a feeling of guilt. Robb hadn't been blind to the Umber girl's blatant advances and he certainly hadn't enjoyed them. He had simply been fulfilling his role as a future Lord and treated one of his future bannerman's daughter with respect and tact. Of course Robb wouldn't simply insult Erika Umber and cast her aside; that would be disrespectful and could possibly insult Lord Umber. Margaery felt terrible for having so little faith in Robb. He had done everything correctly.

"Your father just wants you to be happy. He means well." Margaery whispered to him, leaning away from him and looking seriously up at him.

"I'm happy now; I don't need Erika Umber for that. Besides, the Umbers leave on the morrow; forget them. Now lets just enjoy the silence and dance. Its not every day I get to dance alone with my beautiful best friend." He finished grinning, before pressing her head back against his chest.

She had to tell him. "Robb." She said, more authority in her voice.

"Shhhh. Not tonight." He whispered into her ear, before resting his head upon hers.

Margaery fell silent again. She could do it later or even the next day. She should just enjoy the moment.

They continued dancing for some time, before a question continued to pester her. "What kind of dance is this?" She asked, again looking up to him.

He only smiled back to her, a look that Margaery couldn't place in his eyes. "Does it matter?" He told her, the grin never leaving his face.

Margaery blushed bright red again and pressed her head back into Robb's chest to hide it. How many times had she blushed because of Robb Stark on this day? Though all of that embarrassment would be worth this dance, she thought, as she continued dancing; she could dance like this forever.


	5. Chapter 4

**Revan3363: Thanks! Here you go!**

 **Rebfan90: Thanks! I liked the last chapter a lot as well, when I was writing it.**

 **Guest: I think there should be more Robb/Marg too! Thanks!**

 **XBolt51: Yeah, just meant to be a nice moment between them. My attempt at romance.**

 **Heather is feather: Glad you like them!**

 **DoNotPanic: I guess we'll have to find out!**

 **The K1D: Just a bit. It's still following with canon for now partially, but this will be a slow build to the craziness.**

 **Spectre4hire: Nah, I definitely see where you're coming from on repetitive chapter structure. I think that comes from both my view of the story right now and my strength as a writer. Frankly, because I haven't written much creatively before, I'm starting the story with something I think I can do better, which is angst, and then using a format I'm comfortable in. Really, it's just my inexperience as a writer, which I hope to improve on as I move forward. I'll definitely work on changing up the structure in the next few chapters, though just naturally because of the story-line that is going to change up a lot. This chapter deals a lot more with their friendship than the romance, though truthfully it does still have some romance and maybe a bit of what you're talking about (though honestly I think this one diverges from that and is somewhat necessary). As always thanks for the input, it actually changes how I approach the story a lot, and I hope I can do better with it!**

 **Hi Everyone! Thanks for the follows and reviews as always; they're very encouraging and they get me to write in a time when I'm incredibly busy with schoolwork. Anyways, so I don't know how I feel about this chapter; I can't tell if I like it or don't like it, but here it is anyways. As you'll immediately be able to tell, I am not going to be going through every scene of the show/books, even if they happen where Margaery is; some just don't seem very necessary or won't have been changed much. I already plan on this story being really large, so having chapters where I basically write what George R.R. Martin already has, just didn't seem like a good idea. I pushed the release of this back a day, so that I would be back on the Friday schedule; sorry about the wait. Anyways! Here's the next chapter!**

 **Chapter 4: Margaery Tyrell-Several Weeks Later**

Everyone in Winterfell seemed to be walking around in a daze. It was bad enough when rumors began spreading that Lord Eddard was leaving for King's Landing, but after Bran's fall the people of Winterfell slipped into a deep depression. Not that Margaery herself didn't feel similarly; she did. Eddard Stark was the closest thing Margaery had to a father, even though she technically did have one back in High Garden… Her father had written her before, but he had never taken the time to visit Winterfell, so he was nothing but a forgotten memory. As much as losing Lord Stark hurt, it was nothing compared to that which had befallen Bran.

Margaery had never been particularly close to the young boy; he likely resented her for the many times she had scolded him for climbing. Once when they were younger, Robb had foolishly attempted to climb the keep; Margaery had put a stop to that immediately. Sadly, she didn't have the same influence on Bran… though it appeared as though Margaery still should have scolded him more often… maybe he wouldn't have been climbing. Personally, Margaery found it quite peculiar that Bran had fallen. He never had before and he had done so in torrential rainfall and howling winds… his fall was on a lovely day. Yet, there is a first time for everything and he had yet to awake. Certainly once he did, they would discover the cause of his fall, whether it be accident or something more worrying.

Really, the person, who had taken the news of the fall and of Lord Stark's coming departure the harshest, was Robb. While he attempted to hide it behind his lordly stoicism, Margaery knew he was devastated. He rarely laughed or smiled and walked around with a distant look in his eyes. Normally, his gaze would be joyous and playful, but since the fall his eyes were filled with nothing but anguish and stress. Margaery would often find him at Bran's bedside or alone in the Godswood, his face held in his palms. She had no idea of what to do when Robb was like this; she had never seen him in such a state. She did not know for sure, but she was quite certain that she had almost walked upon him crying. Margaery had never known him to cry, not even as a child…

Given his emotional state, Margaery had never told him of her feelings or tried to push for any more romantic gestures, since the night of the feast. He had too much on his mind to deal with her affections. They would have to wait until things settled and Bran awoke, then she could finally try to move their 'relationship' forward.

Luckily, nothing had ever come of Robb's interactions with Myrcella Baratheon. The girl still looked at him with love and would often seek out his attention or company, but he continued on as normal. He would try to put on an expression of happiness in the young princess's presence, but Margaery could see right through it. Mostly, Robb would only take a walk with the princess and nothing more, probably in an attempt to lighten the poor princess's mood and to fulfill his lordly duty.

Once Sansa was betrothed to Prince Joffrey, Margaery no longer worried about Myrcella Baratheon. It would be unnecessary for Robert Baratheon to betroth his daughter to Robb now; he had already succeeded in binding his family with the Starks. Besides, the king had 6 other kingdoms to appease. Surely one of them would need to be placated with a marriage to the princess. Margaery almost felt bad for the girl; she had no idea that she had no chance with her supposed love and would have no choice on her own marriage. Really, Margaery felt bad for Sansa. Although the young Stark girl was deliriously happy about marrying the future King of Westeros, Sansa was also blind to Joffrey's true nature. The boy was a bloodthirsty monster. Margaery had seen it on a number of occasions, none of which were in Sansa's presence. It was almost as if the prick knew how terrible he was and wanted to hide it from his future wife. Margaery knew his true colors would eventually show. Yet, there was a dark part of her that was still glad for the betrothal; it had prevented one between Myrcella and Robb. Though obviously Margaery could never tell anyone of this… none of the Starks would take such selfishness kindly.

Suddenly, a pounding startled Margaery from her thoughts, as her focus immediately shifted to whoever was at the door. She put the book, which she had basically been ignoring, to the side and shouted "Yes" impatiently.

"My Lady. Lord Stark requests your presence." She heard from across the door, likely some servant.

Why would Lord Eddard need to speak with her? Surely he should be spending all his time with Robb; he was to become Lord of Winterfell in the next day, something he was not ready for. "Tell him I shall be with him in a moment." She responded through the door.

Margaery turned to a mirror and checked her appearance. She was presentable enough, still wearing a southern dress. She had continued doing so since the day of the feast, both because she wanted to appear beautiful in the presence of so many southern ladies and because she suspected that it had helped gain her that wonderful dance with Robb… or at least it had done nothing to dissuade him.

Margaery walked to the door and began making her way to Lord Stark's study. She still had no idea as what he would want of her, but if he had sent a servant, then surely it must have been important. Perhaps he wanted her to join him at King's Landing? Margaery stopped in her tracks at that thought. Would she even want to go south? She may be able to visit her home and see her family for the first time. It was something she always wanted to do, though she had never asked, simply because she had not been sure if she was permitted to do so, and more pettily, because her family had never visited her in Winterfell.

Deep down, even after mere seconds of thought, Margaery knew she would not leave. The Starks were her real family. She was more Stark than Tyrell. Likely, her southern family would be off-put by her northern mannerisms. Despite her Grandmother's best efforts to make her southern, the north had won out and Margaery doubted her family would appreciate it. Yet, Margaery knew these were all secondary excuses. Only one reason truly matter and kept her in Winterfell; she couldn't possibly leave Robb. Not after she had come so close to revealing her feelings and not ever. Even if she had made no progress with Robb and had still been devoid of any hope, she would never leave his side. She craved his presence, relished in his smiles, and loved his friendship; she simply loved him too much to ever leave him, Margaery realized, as she neared Lord Eddard's hallway.

When she finally reached the door, Margaery lightly knocked on the door, confident in her response to Lord Stark's likely question.

"Margaery?" She heard through the door.

"Yes my lord?" Margaery called back.

Only laughter greeted her. "You may enter Margaery."

She shoved the door open and entered Lord Stark's solar. Margaery could not recall a time when she had been in his study; there had never really been a need to. Lord Stark was seated at a grand desk, but rose when she entered. How was she supposed to act? Surely her training as a noble lady must apply here, so Margaery dipped into a quick curtsy and quickly said "My Lord. You requested my presence?"

Again Lord Stark laughed. He may have been known as a stoic man, but Lord Stark had always been warm and loving to her, just as he was with his family, often quick to laugh, though Margaery failed to see the humor in the situation. "Lord Stark?" She questioned, before he came from behind his desk and pulled her into a hug.

"Margaery, you may as well be a daughter to me. There is no need for such formalities, even in my study." He told her, still chuckling.

Margaery blushed, deeply embarrassed. "Sorry Lord Stark. I-"

"Margaery, as always, its Ned to you." He interrupted her, placing a kiss on her head, before walking back to his desk and gesturing for her to sit.

"Do you have any idea why I asked for you?" Ned asked, his face suddenly more stoic.

"None at all." Margaery answered, lying.

"Come now Margaery. We both know you are far smarter than any other person at Winterfell. Plus, you scrunch your nose whenever you lie to anyone you give a damn about." He responded, startling her.

"Uhhh… Ned I" She stammered. She normally was only this bumbling around Robb, especially not Lord Stark.

"So why did I ask for you Margaery" Eddard repeated, a single eyebrow raised.

"Well…" She began, before straightening and regaining her composure. "I assumed you were going to ask if I would like to join you in King's Landing, likely where I would be able to visit my family."

Lord Stark chuckled. "Aye, you are definitely the most intuitive member of the family." Margaery's eyes widened at his words. Did he really consider her a member of the Stark family? Eddard didn't seem to notice her reaction and continued "Would you like to accompany us Margaery? Surely you must want to see the south; it is your home."

Margaery hesitated, before speaking her mind. "Winterfell is my home Ned. It has been so my entire life. I am glad you see me as a member of the family, for I feel quite similarly."

"Yes. You are Margaery. I know you do not resent your status here as much as Theon. But then again, you are not nearly as difficult as him" Lord Stark joked. "So how do you feel about it? I would be glad to bring you, both as a daughter and as someone with a mind for politics."

Margaery was surprised by this. She knew that Lord Stark often took Lady Catelyn's opinion into account, but would he really want a young, female ward's thoughts on running a kingdom. "Surely my lord, there are those more qualified to aid you." She questioned, still shocked.

"Aye. But none that I trust. I need someone I can trust to help me and watch over the girls. You could be both." He finished with a smile.

"My Lord" She started, forgetting his request. "I am honored, but…" This could give her all the power she wanted. That deep-rooted want she had for influence and power was within her grasp. But Robb. That's all she needed to think upon. Robb. "My place is here. I should assist Robb with…"

"Please Margaery, there is no need. I would not separate you from Robb. I was mostly confirming my suspicions." He said solemnly.

Margaery could hardly believe it. Another person knew? Was it really that obvious? She had always thought she had hidden it well. Apparently, it had only been well enough for Robb and no one else. Baby Rickon would likely come to her next and scold her into revealing his feelings for him. Yet, this was not a conversation she wanted to have with Lord Stark. He was both a father to her and the man, who could crush any hopes she had with Robb with a single word or letter to another Lord. Hoping to avoid the topic, she lied, saying "Ned. Robb is like a brother to me. It would be inappropriate of me to desire anything from my lord's son. I would never…"

"Please Margaery. There is no need to lie. Your nose is scrunching again." He told her, chuckling again.

"I…I." She began. "It seems Robb is the only one in Winterfell who knows nothing of my affections for him."

"Certainly not the only one. But the only one with any brains… though maybe he doesn't have any brains. He never did pay any attention in his studies and I have my suspicions that you often completed his work for him?" He finished with a raised eyebrow.

"Only some of it, my Lord." She said with a smirk. "He did always perform quite well in history and strategy. Your son does indeed have some brains."

"Aye, but not as many as you. You have my blessings Margaery. Do not worry."

Margaery again found herself at a loss for words. She must have misunderstood. "Your blessings to stay in Winterfell? Thank you Eddard." She questioned, not letting her hopes get the better of her.

"My blessings to marry Robb. You do love him don't you? Its not just some passing fancy? You would make a wonderful lady of Winterfell and an even better wife to Robb. I could not hope for a better match and I say that after having been offered a princess for him." He finished jokingly. At least Margaery now knew she was not being ridiculous in her jealousy of Myrcella Baratheon.

"Lord Stark. Surely Princess Myrcella or one of the children of your bannermen would be a more appropriate match. Erika Umber is quite beautiful." Margaery told him begrudgingly, trying to evade his words.

"Oh cease this madness Margaery. You are a member of one of the great houses of Westeros and more importantly a dear friend to Robb and member of this family. I would like to see Robb happy and my house strong. With you both are possible." Lord Stark stated, his face showing little emotion.

"Lord Stark, I am not so sure I could make Robb happy. I have been with him for his entire life and he has never shown me any affection. I am afraid he may not be very accepting of a betrothal between us." Margaery whispered, looking down into her lap.

"I would hope my son is not so big a fool Margaery. You and Robb are the greatest of friends; that is more than Catelyn and I had. You are a beautiful, intelligent, and kind woman Margaery. I could think of no one better for my son." He scolded her, finally ending with a smile.

"Thank you Ned" Margaery said, finally able to look Lord Stark in the eyes.

"I do not think it wise to officially arrange a betrothal. It may shock Robb and it would likely be better for your affections to be revealed by yourself. Agreed?"

"That is wise, my lord." Margaery responded, nodding.

"Now. On to less happy topics." Ned said grimly. "With my leaving Winterfell. You will begin to take on responsibilities in my absence."

"But Lord Stark. Robb will be acting Lord and Lady Catelyn will be staying here. Surely they have more right to deal with the running of Winterfell." Margaery argued back, suddenly unsure of herself.

"Robb is still a young man, far too young. He will be a fine lord, but he cannot do it himself-"

Margaery interrupted him, saying "Lady Catelyn will be here. The northern lords would not want-"

Now, Ned interrupted Margaery. "We both know my wife is not capable of running Winterfell in her current state. She is obsessed with staying at Bran's side. Robb values your opinion and you are truly capable of running Winterfell yourself. While you may not yet be the Lady of Winterfell, though I believe and hope someday you will, I name you acting Lady of Winterfell."

"Lord Stark!" Margaery gasped. "I am honored. I will fulfill the responsibilities to the best of my abilities."

"I am sure you will Margaery. Now I have one more request to make. As we have agreed, Lady Catelyn is currently indisposed and Robb may be initially overwhelmed with his responsibilities; I certainly was. They will not have time to think of Rickon. I would just as soon bring him to King's Landing, but he is too young."

"What would you ask of me Ned?" Margaery asked, somewhat in a daze from her new powers.

"I need you to look after Rickon for the family. The changes will be a shock to him and I am worried Robb and Catelyn will be unable to do anything." Ned requested grimly.

"Lord Stark of course I will. The baby Rickon may as well be a little brother." Margaery tried to assure him, calmly.

"Aye. Good. You are dismissed Margaery. I expect you to be there when I bid the family goodbye today."

Margaery stood up and bowed her head. She would go find Rickon; she may as well begin her new responsibility now. Undoubtedly, the family had already been ignoring him with all the commotion of the royal visit. Margaery had never been close to the baby; she'd rarely spoken with him at all really. Part of her was weary of his wolf. It was far more wild than Greywind, but Margaery was guessing she would have to get over that, as she finally exited Lord Stark's office and headed down the hall.

After she spent the afternoon with Rickon, Margaery decided to speak with Robb of her new position. She could hardly wait to tell Robb that she was going to be staying with him, and even as acting lady of Winterfell! He knew that she craved such a position, as her possible role at Highgarden had been completely lost to her, so of course he would be extremely happy for her, even if it put them into an awkward position. She would nearly be his wife in practice, though obviously without the same rights of intimacy; Margaery could still only dream of that. But Margaery needed to forget about such things. Even though he hid it well, Margaery could tell that Robb was devastated by recent events, with both his brother's near death and his father's impending departure. He could use some good news.

Margaery also had the suspicion that Robb believed she was going to leave as well. He had been acting quite odd with her recently, almost distant in nature, as if he was trying to sever their connection preemptively. She could hardly blame him; she had thoroughly considered it. Deep down, Margaery wasn't sure that she would ever have been able to leave Winterfell or Robb; likely if she had gone south, she would have turned around and returned to him almost immediately.

Margaery arrived at his door, knocked, and waited for a response, which after several seconds still did not come.

She knocked again and called out "Robb?" Perhaps he was elsewhere? Though she was sure that he had said he was retiring for the evening, likely tired from a day in the tiltyard.

Finally, she heard ruffling from behind the door and Robb murmur out "I was not to be disturbed!"

Margaery was somewhat taken aback by his tone; he had never been so rude with her before. He likely didn't know whom it was at the door. "Robb! It's me, Margaery! I have wonderful news!"

"Please leave Margaery. I can hear about it on the morrow."

Why was he acting like this? She would not be ignored like some simple serving girl. "Robb Stark, open this door!" She shouted angrily. After a few seconds of silence, she heard the door being unbolted and it open slightly. She couldn't see anything within the room, as it was utter blackness, but Robb spoke anyways, his voice struggling to be heard.

"So what's this wonderful news…" He whispered. "Are you leaving me and going to King's Landing as well?" He finished with an obvious hint of sarcasm.

Margaery was losing her patience with him and shoved the door open further, ready to speak her mind before she saw his face. His eyes were red, likely from recent tears; his hair disheveled. Margaery hadn't seen him in such a state in years, likely since they were little children. Though, truly Robb and she were still children, not accustom to the rigors of adulthood. Before she could even think, she burst forward and pulled him into a powerful hug. She could feel him stagger back and she worried she had been to forceful, until he steadied and returned the gesture, as if holding on for dear life.

"I'm not leaving Robb." She whispered into his hair; it tickling her nose as she did so. "That was my news." Her other news would have to wait. His comfort was far more important than her thirst for power.

At those words, he held her even closer and began shaking with sobs. She had never seen him so vulnerable; the stress of everything around him had gotten to him even more than Margaery had suspected. He seemed overwhelmed.

"Thank you Margaery." He mumbled between struggling breaths, likely trying to control himself. Robb was ever prideful and likely would try to bury his emotions back within himself once he began to think clearly.

"Of course Robb. I will always be here for you."

After several moments like that, Robb finally pulled away from her and sat on the ground, his back resting against the wall. Margaery quickly move to sit next to him, careful to maintain a proper distance between them.

"You shouldn't have had to see me like that. Hardly like any of your southern knights would act." He japed, trying to ease the emotional tension.

"What southern knights? I've left Winterfell even less than you have." She returned with a smile, looking to her side into his eyes, trying to offer some comfort.

"Aye." He began, taking her hand and softly rubbing his thumb over her palm. "You're more of the north than I. What lord of Winterfell cries in front of a lady?"

"Robb. No one expects this to be easy. Your brother nearly died, your mother is a wreck and your sisters and father are leaving for King's Landing. Everyone dear to you is nearly gone" She explained, trying to lend him some strength. Despite her reassurances, she knew that they were facing some real problems in Winterfell. This was not a normal situation faced by a lord of the north.

"Aye. All but one." He whispered back, leaning his head on her shoulder.

"What?" She questioned, unsure of what he meant and trying to remain calm in the face of their intimate position. Who knew that a head on her own shoulder could feel so comforting? She was supposed to be lending him comfort, but a simple resting of the head on her should made her completely at ease.

"You said everyone dear to me is leaving. That's not true." He curtly said back, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. What could he mean by that? He couldn't be insinuating anything, could he?

"Robb. Stop being so perplexing. Where's that northern bluntness?" She joked, trying to ease her own angst.

"I care a great deal for you Margaery. So I'd say not everyone has left." He responded, resting more weight on her shoulder, his eyes resting, before his breath evened out. Robb must have been exhausted, as his body slumped onto hers; his body finding sleep almost immediately. How little sleep had he gotten over the last weeks? Likely almost none. Yet, Margaery didn't even have the wherewithal to ponder Robb's condition; hers were already shifting elsewhere…


	6. Chapter 5

**Kaizer-Kid: I didn't mean really for him to come across that way, though given his actions, I can see why you say that.**

 **XBolt51: Jon would definitely be on that list. Down the road, his character will become more central.**

 **GamerGirl010: I'm glad you're liking it!**

 **Spectre4hire: Thank you! I'm happy with how the story is turning out so far. We'll have to see how long it takes for Margaery to get the courage to do so. And with Olenna, I was actually going to run with that, but she would be in Highgarden. While she does have some connections with the Starks, her main focus is on her family in Highgarden, so I do believe Eddard would ask for her advice, though she will not actually be in King's Landing for now.**

 **Hey everyone! I'm on time, though with a shorter chapter this time! This chapter was originally much longer, but I split this one and the next one in half, because frankly they didn't make much sense together. 200 followers on this story! Get Hype. I'm really glad people are enjoying it and I'm gonna continue working on getting this story out every week for you wonderful peoples. As always any constructive criticism is appreciated and thank you for reviewing! Here's the chapter.**

 **Chapter 5: Margaery Tyrell- Some days later**

Margaery couldn't believe how much energy this kid had sometimes. If this is what the wolf's blood, that Lord Stark liked talking about so much, was, then Margaery was glad that very few of the Starks of this generation had it. While all the children had their moments, Rickon surely had more than any other; he truly was a demon some times. He constantly found his way into trouble, and if Margaery even kept his eyes off of him for a few mere seconds, then he would be half-way down the hallway of the keep or hoisting himself up to the window. It was almost as if the kid had a death wish. Just today, while going to oversee the preparations for luncheon in the kitchens, she had found Rickon tearing through the stock-room, his nurse nowhere to be found.

She couldn't help but think of how different life would be if Robb had the same wild nature as his brother. Her childhood would certainly have been a lot different and most likely, she would despise him. Margaery could hardly handle this kind of energy as a woman; as the well-behaved child she had been, she would have thought him to be the devil. Luckily, or maybe unluckily, Robb, though a passionate… not passionate, Margaery shouldn't use such words about him… an emotional man, was often extremely rational and calm, sometimes too much so in Margaery's opinions. Perhaps if he wasn't so collected, she would have more idea about what to do with him. Not just how to get him to love her, but to get him to stop bottling up his stress and actually let her help him run Winterfell.

Though Lord Stark had asked her to become acting lady of Winterfell, apparently Robb had felt her inadequate for the position, as he had taken on the responsibilities of both Lord and Lady of Winterfell, in his Father's absence and Mother's constant vigil over Bran, who had yet to show any signs of improvement. Margaery would have thought that Robb would respect his father's wishes, but he had never even mentioned Margaery's position, just continued on doing the job of two people. Robb would never admit it, but he was quickly becoming overwhelmed by his newfound position. To the outside observer, it would seem that Robb was doing an extraordinary job, and Margaery knew he was; she was extremely proud of how effective Lord he was. Maester Luwin had even commented upon how fair and just a ruler he was.

Yet, Margaery knew that though he was succeeding, he was overwhelmed as well, only trying his best not to show it. While in public and in conversation Robb was his same charming-self, quick to laugh and smile, Margaery could see the desperation and stress whenever he thought himself alone, the far-away exhausted stare whenever he thought no one was looking. He would never admit it, but Robb was working himself to death. Margaery had tried speaking with him, but he would simply say that it was his duty and then over compensate with fake laughter and a smile. She could always tell when Robb's smiles were true… they hadn't been real since his father left. Margaery wished more than anything that she could see him joyful again, which was why she had gone to oversee the kitchens; just to free him from one basic duty.

However, when she had found Rickon, she knew that she had to save his nurse and watch him for the day. She had already failed in the first duty that Lord Stark had given her; she shouldn't fail the other one as well. The toddler had been extremely happy to see her, jumping from his perch within the pantry and launching himself at Margaery, who, after having spent much of her recent time with the boy, managed to expertly catch him and hug him against her shoulder.

Within seconds, his initial excitement turned to despair as he began to kick and squirm against her grip.

"No Margie!" He squealed, using the same name Robb had used as a young child.

"Come on little wolf." Margaery cooed, trying to calm him. "Let's go find your nurse and tell her that I'll be caring for you this afternoon."

"No!" Was that the only word the boy knew, Margaery thought. "I want to play in the kitchens."

"Your brother has enough to worry about without causing you trouble." Margaery scolded him. "Perhaps if you behave well today, he may come play with you this evening." She knew it was unlikely, but any mention of Robb never failed to calm the toddler, and a day of peace was worth lying to the child.

"Will you tell him Margie?" Rickon asked excitedly.

"How about you tell him Rickon? Mayhaps you can make a lordly request from him during court?" She joked, trying to get him excited.

"No! You have to tell him!" He yelled, pouting.

"Well why must I be the one to do that little wolf?" Margaery questioned, genuinely intrigued by the child's insistence.

"Robb won't listen to me, only you!" Rickon stated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Well why not?"

"You're the only one Robb listens to Margie! Everyone knows that." Rickon responded matter-of-factly.

"What do you mean Rickon?" Margaery said, unsure of his words.

"Mother and Father used to speak of it. Robb does whatever you tell him. I asked why and mother said… uhhh… oh yeah!.. she said you used a spell on him! Use the spell on him! I want to play with Robb!" He continued excitedly.

Margaery didn't know how to respond to that. "I don't use a spell Rickon. I'm sure you can speak with him." She tried to reason, more for her own sake than his. What had Lord and Lady Stark really said of it? Had they really been speaking about her and Robb? Sure, Robb often did what Margaery told him, but surely not always… right? The more Margaery thought of it, the more unsure she became of it. She could hardly recall a single time Robb had ever not followed her advice, but she had always simply attributed it to her being right, not that she had any unusual influence upon her.

"No! Mother said he was under your spell! Make him play with me! I want to play with Shaggydog and Greywind!" The boy demanded.

Now that was ridiculous. Robb certainly wasn't under Margaery's spell like that; what could possibly have given the Stark's such an absurd idea? Could Robb have possibly said something to them? No. Rickon must have misunderstood what they were speaking of or Lord and Lady Stark had simply been mocking their son for listening to Margaery too much, though how could he not?

Margaery decided arguing with the stubborn child would get her nowhere and instead agreed, saying "Alright. I shall do my best little Rickon."

"I am not little! I'll be big like Robb soon!" The boy argued.

"Not if you keep misbehaving like this little one! I'm bigger than you yet." She grinned at him, ruffling his hair.

That's how she found herself spending the entire day with the little monster, who seemed to have limitless supplies of energy. It would take days for her normally perfectly arranged room to return to its former tranquility, as the baby had managed to find his way into every crevice of the room during the small spans of time she kept his eyes off him.

Finally, as the sun began to set and after sharing sup together, Rickon dozed off into a gentle sleep, which Margaery had once believed would never come. Margaery too began drifting off into sleep, her mind blank of all thoughts in her exhaustion, when she was awakening by a soft knock at the door. She didn't believe it had actually happened, until she heard it again, followed by a feint "Margaery. Are you in there?"

Margaery had no idea who could possibly be looking for her, and walked to the door, trying to make as little noise as possible. She was about to rudely dismiss whoever was on the other side of the door for possibly disturbing the little lordling and herself, until she shoved the door open only to find a disheveled Robb, looking down-trodden and exhausted.

"Oh! Robb! Rickon just fell asleep, but I'm certain he would enjoy your company. He's been asking for you all day. He even wanted me to ask you to-" She began before quickly being interrupted.

"I was looking for you actually." He said abruptly.

"Of course! What need do you have of me Lord Stark?" She joked, exaggerating her formality.

"Please Margaery. I know you meant it as a jape, but I cannot bare to hear another damn person refer to me as Lord Stark." Robb responded, unamused. Robb was normally so quick to laugh and joke with her; this truly was affecting him more than perhaps she had even suspected.

"Robb. Of course. Anything." Margaery whispered, holding her hand out to him, which he slowly grabbed and squeezed lightly.

"Could we go to my chambers and speak for a moment Margaery?" He asked, still looking to the ground.

"Perhaps we should go to your study instead Robb." Margaery responded uncomfortably. It would hardly be appropriate for them to meet in his chambers, so late in the day. Margaery tried not to let her mind wander as to what he wanted to do in his chambers, though she knew it would be something inconsequential. Yet, they still had to maintain appearances, especially with him being the true Lord of Winterfell now.

"You and I both know that is my father's study, not mine own. Please Margaery, I'd like to be able to be myself with you at least." He finished, great emphasis on the you.

"Alright. But I expect your Stark honor to hold up here, Robb." She said with a smile, attempting to ease the awkward tension.

Robb smiled at that, seeming to recover, and extended his arm to her. "Of course Margaery. Wouldn't want any gossip to spread about us, now would we?" He joked, his usual charm returning to him, as he began leading her down the hall.

Once they finally reached his door, he shoved it open and gestured for him to sit on his bed, where he himself sat. Margaery hesitated, beginning to question what was happening here. Surely sitting on his bed was not necessary for whatever he wanted to speak with her about?

Robb must have noticed her hesitation and began laughing. "You know. I remember a time when we didn't hesitate to join one another in bed."

Ignoring the connotation of his words, she smiled and returned "Aye. When we were but children."

"If it would make you feel more comfortable, we could sit on the ground." He continued. "I swear I have nothing but the purest of intentions." Finishing with a smile.

Margaery grinned in return and sunk onto his bed. She was acting foolish; Robb had no intentions of using this bed with her. She couldn't help but wonder what she would have done if he had tried to do so. Wonder was a bit of an understatement, she knew she would allow him to have his way with her. She was in love with him and there was little reason to deny it to herself. She would have fallen into his bed without hesitation, no matter the whispers or rumors.

"What need do you have of me Robb?" Margaery asked curiously.

"I have something to ask of you." Robb stammered. "You don't have to and I would understand if you didn't want to." He drifted off, looking down at his hands, which nervously rubbed against one another. Margaery took his hand with one of hers and tried to squeeze tightly, wondering what he could desire from her.

"I can handle this no longer Margaery. I can no longer do this alone." Robb whispered, looking to her eyes. Margaery was taken aback by this; what could he no longer do? Was this, a general statement?

"What…what do you mean Robb?" Margaery stuttered out.

"Please Margaery. I need you to agree to this." He continued, still being annoying cryptic.

"Robb you're worrying me. What do you need of me, of course I would agree to anything you asked."

Robb's eyes seemed to flicker down to her hand again. "Margaery…" he began, looking into her eyes hopefully. "Will you please take over my mother's position as Lady of Winterfell?" Robb's words quickened. "I know I have no right to ask that of you; you are not even a Stark, let alone the Lady of Winterfell. But you are the only one I have left to do this. Jon does his best, but you are the only person I trust who knows how-"

"Robb." She interrupted, placing his hand on his cheek. "Of course I will."

He seemed shocked by her answer and began laughing wildly; he jumped from the bed and pulled her up with him. "Thank you Margaery!" He shouted excitedly, surrounding her in a powerful bear hug and kissing her on her forehead, both hands on either side of her face.

"Thank you Margaery." He whispered into her hair. "I have no idea what I would do without you. Likely I would lose the north within a couple years."

Margaery pulled away from him and looked him sternly in the eyes. "Robb Stark! That is not true! You have been a superb Lord of Winterfell and will continue to do so. I will only be doing the duties that you were never supposed to have had."

"I just need someone with me. My father expects me to do this alone, but I am unable. I need someone who knows how to run a keep and someone who's judgement I can trust. I need you Margaery." He said, squeezing her hand again.

"Robb. It is an honor to be trusted with this. Truly. I should be thanking you; it will give me experience for when I eventually have some keep of my own to run." She told him, attempting to reassure him. Yet, he seemed to become more distraught at her words, not comforted.

"Yes. Of course." Robb began before smiling and seeming to regain his composure. "Do not thank me yet Margaery, this has nearly been the death of me. Though, I have a feeling that you shall do better than I ever did."

"I was always better at my sums than you Robb." She japed, a grin on her face, as she tried to contain her quiet excitement. It would seem improper if Margaery was too excited over something that Robb had bestowed upon her as a burden.

Robb finally stoop up and kissed her again on the hand. "Aye. That you were. I must thank you again Margaery. I must tell my mother. She was not in favor of the idea, but I'm sure she will accept my decision." He said, as he made his way out the door.

"Wait!" Margaery tried to yell, as he made his way down the hall and away from her. Why would Lady Stark be so opposed to the idea?


	7. Chapter 6

**BeautyInTheDarkness25: It may be some time before Catelyn fully reveals her possible feelings on it. But this chapter will show a little more of that.**

 **Spectre4hire: Yeah, I was happy with the last one as well. Thanks!**

 **GamerGirl010: Sorry to keep you waiting so long, I know how annoying that can be.**

 **XBolt51: Nah. Margaery and Olenna talked him into staying in this AU.**

 **Akoslows: I just can't help some statements like that every so often.**

 **Revan3363: Thanks!**

 **I'm not dead guys! Sorry for the wait; I'm not going to grovel like some authors do, because it's my fault for being so far behind. I really am not over the mono yet, but especially with finals and Christmas over the last month or so, I really got out of the writing mode and just hadn't gotten around to it. To those who have been patiently waiting, I hope I can keep up better from now on; it was just a rough time there for a while. I actually thought of some really interesting plot ideas that I think will flush this story and the characters out some more and I'm even going to bring back a certain character who I am especially fond of into a big part of the story later on. If anyone can guess who it is, I will let them know. I'm not going to make any promises on the next chapter, though it shouldn't be too long; I got the writing bug back. Anyways, no excuses more excuses for being late, so here is the next chapter!**

 **Chapter 6: Margaery Tyrell- Some weeks later**

As glad as Margaery was for Robb to have entrusted her with some of his duties, she never imagined some of her tasks would be so dull. Watching over the servants and the delivery of goods was no problem, nor were many of the duties she went about with the maester. Maester Luwin and her had always gotten along quite well; her natural curiosity having quite entertained the kindly man and kept her often in his presence. While maester Luwin often scolded her for her annoyance with the more mundane tasks, even he could not deny that managing the accounts was certainly dull. Margaery knew this was in part due to the ease with which she could do her sums and that others would likely find it more interesting simply because of the difficulty involved. Yet, for her, it was quite a mindless task that she felt someone with fewer responsibilities could oversee. Certainly, Jon could make sense of these numbers just as well as her; he may not have been as good as Margaery, but he was far better than Robb, who had been more interested in history and mostly ignored his other lessons. That was not to say that Margaery thought him unclever; in many ways he was nearly as clever as herself and had always seemed to especially grasp strategy, something that was likely more useful for when he eventually went off to war, a day Margaery never wished to think of.

Despite her grumblings, Margaery knew she would certainly not ask it of Robb, or Jon for that matter. Jon was already hesitant to help Robb in any of his duties, even simply working with the men, no matter the encouragement Robb gave him; Jon would rather stay to the side, free from the judging eyes he forever felt. Besides, Robb had entrusted her with these duties and she had no wish for him to think less of her or even, gods-forbid, to think that she could not handle the pressure of being the lady of a great keep. He would never see her as worthy of becoming the true lady of Winterfell if she was unable to only perform the duties for such a short time as Lady Catelyn's mental absence.

She cursed herself quickly for letting her mind wander. It was not healthy for her to continue imagining herself in such a position. She was helping Robb and that was the end of it.

After attempting to refocus, she cast her quill down at the parchment in frustration. Margaery knew she could finish this in the morning when her mind was less weary and her eyes less strained. She stood from her desk… well Lady Stark's desk—she had taken to performing her duties in the Lady of Winterfell's chambers, her room was far too crowded with various books and parchment for her mind to work well— and decided to take a stroll through Winterfell. It had been far too long since she last enjoyed a walk through her beloved home; perhaps she would see if baby Rickon would like to accompany her. She had not spent as much time with him recently as she would have liked, but it could not be helped given her new duties, which she could not do nearly as quickly as Lady Catelyn.

When she finally reached his room, she found him to be already in a deep state of sleep. It was nearly impossible to calm the little wolfling when awake, so Margaery would certainly not be threatening the peace of her night with waking the child. His family's departure had been quite difficult for the baby and his mother's near catatonic state had not helped in any sense; Rickon could do with the rest.

Margaery instead decided to scold Robb into accompanying her on her stroll through Winterfell, no matter his objections. Truly, she had never met another who loved their home as much as he. If he had his way, Margaery knew that Robb would likely never leave Winterfell and its outskirts; she only hoped that nothing would ever have to take him from his home, as unlikely as that would be. The life of the Warden of the North would take him throughout many of his lands and likely to the South, once the king called for his presence; leaving would eventually be necessary. Yet, it was still quite endearing to Margaery to see his look of simultaneous ease and wonder whenever he wandered the grounds of Winterfell. He often told her that he found something new in the keep every time he walked through its halls; something which she fully accepted. Margaery knew it was time he regain that wonder and get lost with her on this evening. He had been far too rigorous in his duties recently and rarely gave himself any time for his own enjoyment no matter how often she tried to convince him differently.

Once she reached the door to the Lord's study, she lightly knocked and walked in without waiting for a response.

"How dare someone-" Robb began, clearly incensed with having been barged in on. "Oh Margaery." He abruptly said, realizing his mistake.

"You seem quite disappointed with my being here Robb. Perhaps you expected some young maiden to be entering your chambers today. Hmmm?" Margaery japed, her playful mood taking over.

"None but you." Robb retorted with a small smirk, before frowning and looking back to the parchment on his desk. Deciding that he was being far too solemn, Margaery strolled towards him and sat herself upon his table atop the very papers that he had been reading. "Is there something you wanted Margaery?" He questioned quite dismissively, though a smirk again danced across his face.

"Only the joy of your company oh great Lord of Winterfell." Margaery said with a hint of nobility. "I would think it would be your lordly duty to accompany a southern lady on her walk through such a savage, northern keep. We wouldn't want me to become lost, now would we?"

"I believe you may be more northern savage than southern lady by now. Besides, of the two of us, I would say it is more likely for I to become lost than you." Robb joked, chuckling until a frown again crossed his face. This had become far too common an occurrence, Margaery thought, cursing Lord Stark's position as hand of the king yet again. Desperately needing to get through to him, Margaery grabbed his hand and looked him in the eyes, a hard proposition when his eyes were so flighty. "Come Robb. You have worked enough for today. It would reflect very poorly on the Lady of Winterfell if the Lord appeared too weary and disheveled." He failed to even smile at her banter and only continued to frown down at the table, an idea which only several moons ago would have been completely foreign to Margaery. "Robb… Look at me." She pleaded.

He was finally able to match her gaze and she almost gasped at the view she was met with, her hand coming to her mouth. He looked utterly exhausted, even the usual gleam of youth and joy that she loved about him was gone, the usual tale of excitement and passion replaced by one of having aged far too early. "Join me for a walk. Forget your duties for an evening and simply enjoy the night…with me." She continued, trying to convince him. "I have far too much to do Margaery. I really would love to but my father entrusted me with the-" He mumbled, before he was quickly interrupted.

"Robb. I miss my dearest friend. I would do anything for you and I will continue helping in any way I can, but I would like to have a moment with just Robb, not Lord Stark." She said in a near whisper.

"Margaery I-" He tried before she continued on.

"You have never been Lord Robb with me before; do not begin to do so now. Besides… I am Lady of Winterfell and I am ordering you to join me on my walk through the keep." She commanded, a small grin showing only at the corners of her mouth.

After a moment, Robb sighed and stood from his chair. Margaery could barely contain her excitement as she knew she had finally convinced him. He put on what she thought to be a rather forced smile and looked her in the eye, his hand never straying from hers throughout the entire process. "Well it would seem I have little choice in the matter my Lady." He joked, a very real smirk now on his lips.

"One day you will discover that you never have a choice when it comes to me Robb." Margaery returned playfully.

She was greeted with a soft chuckle. "Aye, though I'm quite sure I never have Margaery." He finished before falling silent and leading her out of the room.

They continued walking in comfortable silence through the halls of Winterfell and Robb seemed to relax quickly, his shoulders rolling back and his expression becoming less hardened. Margaery couldn't help but believe that she may be able to spend the evening with her Robb; not the Lord Robb that she had been seeing for some time. She had hoped that taking on his mother's responsibilities would ease his burdens, but it seemed to have done very little for him. She shuddered thinking of what would have happened if he had continued doing everything on his own. Margaery couldn't fault him; even the most seasoned Lords did not fulfill the duties of both Lord and Lady, let alone a young lord like Robb.

Almost as if the gods, both old and new were mocking Margaery, when the pair exited the keep and felt the cold of the northern air, they were immediately met not with the usual calm of a northern night, but sounds of chaos and the smell of smoke. Margaery could see Robb immediately tense and saw him slip back into his Lordly demeanor. She cursed her luck without even thinking of the meaning of the smoke. Of all evenings for a fire, it had to be the night when she attempted to help Robb relax!

With a tired sigh and a fleeting look of exasperation, Robb sprung into action. "Margaery. Go find Rickon! Jon will be in the hall, bring him to Bran's chambers and stay there until I come to fetch you."

"Robb! I don't think we should all just hide, we all have a-" she began to argue, annoyed with his overbearing commands.

"Margaery!" He yelled, grabbing her by the shoulders and silencing her immediately. Margaery looked into his eyes and saw the usual passion in his eyes, their earlier dull, coolness surprisingly gone again. "If this fire is large, I cannot afford to worry about you all as well. Jon will protect you all and I will hear no more of it." He continued before giving her a gentle squeeze and running towards the smoke, gathering men as he went.

Once Margaery's mind caught up with her situation, she quickly ran off, carrying her dress so it did not impede her movement. Curse these damn southern dresses, Margaery thought angrily; she would have been able to run freely in her typical northern garb. Acting on instinct, she made her way to Rickon's chambers without thinking, her knowledge of Winterfell's layout etched into her admittedly impressive memory. Expecting to see Rickon in a state of panic, Margaery calmed herself before throwing the doors open, only to find the young child asleep, completely oblivious to the dangers outside his very walls.

"Rickon". Margaery called gently. "Rickon."

The young Stark boy finally began to stir after she drew closer to his bed and rolled over towards Margaery. "Margie?" He grumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Hello little Rickon." Margaery cooed, trying not to excite him. "We are going to see your brother Bran. Would you like to see Bran?"

A frown crossed Rickon's face. "I don't want to see Bran; he just sleeps all day. Let's see Robb!" He finished, excitedly. So much for keeping him calm, Margaery muttered to herself, as the kid began to attempt to climb out of the confines of his bedding. She was often amazed by Rickon's boundless energy; Bran had been such a calm child and Arya had been nearly impossible to stir in the night. Rickon must have gotten all the excitability of the Stark children.

"No, Robb is performing his duties Rickon." She began, as she lifted him. "Come. We shall say hello to Brandon and visit your mother, would you like that?"

His expression changed quite suddenly at the mention of his mother and smiled. It saddened Margaery that Catelyn was mostly neglecting her youngest child, even if she was unaware of her actions; Rickon clearly adored his mother and would light up at her very mention. Having become newly interested, Rickon held his arms up towards Margaery impatiently, giggling when she finally brought him into her grasp. He was becoming far too heavy for Margaery to continue carrying him throughout the keep; she was naturally quite a small girl, and though her body had matured early and quite significantly, she did not yet have a woman's strength, which must come with motherhood.

With him firmly in her hands, Margaery rushed out of Rickon's chambers, careful not to drop the squirming child from her grasp. She began to make her way towards the great hall to fetch Jon, before hesitating and halting her progress. It was highly unlikely that Jon would still be there, as word must have spread through the keep during her time attempting to rouse Rickon and he had likely already joined the effort to control the flames; he was nearly as noble as his trueborn elder brother. Instead she began to more calmly make her way towards Bran's chambers herself, it would do no good to frighten Catelyn with her own excitement; she was already quite distraught.

When she finally neared the room, she saw its door was already ajar and immediately halted. The doors of Winterfell were never left unclosed; Maester Luwin had once told her that it was so rooms would not lose their heat to the cold of the halls. More importantly, Margaery knew that Catelyn would never allow such carelessness in Bran's chambers; she had nearly banished a maid for having given Bran only two furs for his bedding on a particularly frigid night, and likely would have were it not for Robb's intervention.

Increasingly apprehensive, Margaery began inching towards the entrance and began to hear an unknown man's words. "You're not supposed to be here. Noone is supposed to be here." Margaery immediately knew this was no man of the north; his southern accent was quite apparent, and his words did not bode well. She gently set Rickon to the ground, who somehow seemed to understand the danger of the situation, with the intuition that only young babes possessed.

Margaery, with hands shaking, began to walk into the door attempting to make as little noise as possible, before seeing a massive hooded man brandishing a large dagger. She silently cursed herself for not fetching Jon, though dismissed it immediately, knowing that she would never have arrived in time if she had done so. Suddenly and shocking Margaery from her thoughts, the man began to move towards Lady Catelyn, who had caught Margaery's eye and indicated towards Bran with her look, and Margaery reacted without thinking, running towards the man. She grabbed the man's arm, as he lunged towards Catelyn, stopping his attempt at ridding the world of the Lady of Winterfell. "Seven Hells!" He shouted, shocked from the outside intervention, as his attention shifted towards winning back control of his knife from Margaery. Catelyn joined the struggle and tried to hold down the attacker's other arm, but was quickly knocked to the ground by the far larger man. Margaery knew she was losing the struggle and quickly changed strategy to something, Lord Stark had once taught her after Theon had sent her away in tears with his bullying, by swiftly kicking between the man's legs. He swore and buckled over in pain, but wrenched his arm away from Margaery in his shock.

Unsure what to do with her new-found advantage, Margaery hesitated and froze in place, her mind in a panic. She quickly regretted this, as the man spun around and slashed up her face, throwing her aside in the process causing Margaery's head to smash against the stone wall. Her vision began to blur, as she felt a warmth pass over her left cheek, slowly trickling from a point just above her eyebrow down the entirety of her face. The pain was overwhelming and Margaery could only barely hear the savage bark of an animal and feel herself being shaken by an unknown source before her world became blackness.

 **A/N: Sorry to end it here, but I know everyone wants another chapter out and I felt this was a natural spot to end the chapter.**


	8. Chapter 7

**Real Question for everyone before my A/N and review comments. If you all would want a chapter every so often from a different perspective, then let me know. I won't be doing one from Robb's POV, but if you all wanted some interludes from Ned Stark or Lady Olenna, or something like that, then I would definitely be willing to do it if people want that to break up any chance of narrative monotony.**

 **RHatch89: Thanks!**

 **MapleJordan22: Thanks! I've been happy with my portrayal of Robb and Margaery so far, of making them realistic, imperfect characters, especially wanting to avoid making Margaery a Mary-Sue, so I really appreciate the input on her character.**

 **XBolt51: She will indeed be scarred, but I will definitely not beat that to death very much. It is a focal point of this chapter though.**

 **Rebfan90: Thanks!**

 **Liria: I have yet to decide if that pairing will happen, but I will definitely keep that in mind once Dany comes into play later on.**

 **A/N: Hey Guys! I didn't take 3 months to update! Jokes aside. Here is the new chapter and I'm trying to change up the setup of the storytelling here, which is a request I have gotten and just a good idea in general; let me know if it works. I was disappointed to get a needlessly negative review on my last chapter; I'm fine with any sort of criticism, if its constructive, or just even substantive, but if you don't like the story, then simply don't read it. I do have to say that as the story gets going, there will be less of a focus on romance than now, but it will always be an important aspect. If you don't enjoy romance in your stories, then I would advise not reading stories tagged as romance, even if the story is not only a romantic one. I want to reiterate that needless negativity really does not bother me and will have no effect on my writing of the story (unless there is legitimate complaint that could change my approach to the story) but I had always been impressed with the overall positivity of the Game of Thrones community. Anyways! As always, thank you all for the support and the reviews, and I own none of the characters or places discussed; I might own my storyline, but I'm no patent lawyer. Enjoy!**

 **Chapter 7: Margaery Tyrell-Some days later.**

She ran her finger down along it, feeling the newly roughened skin as she made the journey from slightly above her eyebrow all the way to the edge of her face. She was still surprised by the lack of pain from this repeated action… she had to have done it hundreds of times. Yet, not once had it brought much discomfort, only an odd tingling and feelings of emptiness. Maester Luwin had assured her that it would improve quickly, but he would not lie to her. It would be there forever. She was told that it would eventually become a thin white line, nearly unnoticeable. She knew better. Where once there was porcelain skin, there now resided a hideous, jagged line of red carved into her face, lined with cracked blood and tied together only by Maester Luwin's handiwork. Her face was marked beyond repair.

No matter how hard she tried, whenever she looked in the mirror her eye would be drawn to the monstrosity of a scar running down her face. Not that the rest of Margeary was a sight to behold, since her awakening sleep had alluded her; leaving her face stricken and weary, eyes circled with darkness from lack of rest. Once, after struggling under her furs for some time, she had fallen into an uneasy sleep only to be haunted by nightmares. Scenes of Luwin's stitches coming undone and her skin peeling away from the wound were the most pleasant. Worse still were those of the assassin committing even more horrendous atrocities upon her; her again powerless to stop him. Yet, worst of all were those of laughter. The townsfolk, the soldiers, the maester, the maids, and all the Starks… even Robb laughing at her ugly façade, mocking her ugliness. She knew it was likely ridiculous and had tried to constantly reassure herself, but it was useless. The thought of Robb being unable to contain his laughter at the sight of her face was too horrible to be ignored. Not even because of Margaery's chances at romance with Robb; those were surely gone. No, what really tortured her and kept her lying awake was the thought that her dearest friend, her near brother, would look upon her with ridicule, unworthy of respect, friendship, love, or even attention, a monster to be mocked, pitied, and forgotten. When she had awoken from her dreams, she silent decided not to force sleep upon herself. Weariness of the body was a far less punishment than torture of the mind. But, even in her conscious albeit barely lucid state, she was still constantly haunted. Her mind was marked beyond repair.

She wished she could go back to the moments before the attack and scold herself. If she had simply listened to Robb, she never would have been scarred… made worthless. Yet, if she had done that, then Lady Stark and little Bran might have been horribly harmed or even killed; should that not have been worth her own wound? Her own suffering? She had protected the family that had raised her and defended her home. There is honor in that and any Stark would do the same. Jon and Robb would never have thought twice about defending Lady Stark and would never have regretted it for a mere scare. Though, they were men, trained to fight and free of the pressures of beauty placed upon any lady and Margaery was truly no real Stark, even if she had been raised one. If she could go back, would she allow Bran and Lady Stark to possibly face death, just to regain her lost beauty? At first thought, Margaery knew she would fight every time… but then she would see the blood-caked curse upon her cheek and doubt would spread; what would she do? Had her Stark honor and familial love left her because she was simply scratched in the face? Her soul was marked beyond repair. Maybe she was completely marked beyond repair.

 _Blackness abates, and Margaery can feel herself rousing, the only indication of consciousness a feeling of applied pressure and warmth on her hand, followed by a stinging in her cheek and something foreign on her face. She opens her eyes and is met by her chambers in one eye and nothing in the other. She tries to sit up, but only groans, the aches in her body steadily becoming more obvious. She feels the warmth slip away from her hand and hears what must be another person move around, but she is unable see whomever it is. "What has happened?" She struggles to mumble, her lips and tongue devoid of moisture._

" _You were attacked during the fire." A voice responds, though Margaery's head is spinning and drowsy from sleep and she is unable to identify the person. She knows it must be Robb and tries to turn towards him, but is stopped by a strong hand. "You cannot move, your wound is still fresh."_

" _Robb." She says quietly, not wanting to know the answer. "Why can't I see?"_

" _We couldn't take the bandages off while you slept. If you had turned over in your sleep, then you may have reopened the wound. We can remove it now if you wish." The voice returned quietly._

 _Margaery tried to nod and turned towards Robb, forgetting his earlier request, only to find Jon Snow sitting before her. "Oh." She whispered without thought. "Sorry Jon, I just thought-"_

" _It's okay Margaery." Jon said with a chuckle. "I know what you thought."_

 _Where was Robb? Did he not care enough to even see her? Perhaps his mother had been hurt. In her confusion Margaery had completely forgotten about Catelyn and Bran, and Robb was always quite close to his mother, if she had been hurt, he would be impossible to move from her side. "What happened Jon?" Margaery asked, trying to hide her despair at Robb not being here. Did she now so look the monster because of the wound that Margaery was now hyper aware of? "Are Bran and Lady Stark hurt?" She finished, worry for her family finally seeping into her mind._

" _No. They are both fine thanks to you and Bran's direwolf." Jon answered with what seemed like pride._

" _Oh." Margaery whispered, her disappointment clear. Where was Robb? "I only…oh nevermind… I'm happy to hear they are okay… I…" She stammered, tears forming at her uncovered eye. She could hardly believe the emotions she felt at the moment; she had been attacked and knocked asleep for only the gods know how long and her only care was that Robb wasn't there to see her wake. "Jon?"_

" _Yes Margaery?" Jon asked, his hold on her hand returning._

" _Um… where is Robb?" She manages, the tears subsiding, though the emotion still there. "Does he not-"_

 _Jon interrupted her again. "He left only moments before you awoke. He left me to watch over you while he attended to some duties. I ought to go fetch him actually; he'll have my head if I wait any longer." He continued as he rose to his feet and ran towards the door of her chambers. "Don't worry Margaery. I'll be right back."_

" _Wait!" Margaery yelled, jolting herself upright despite the pain. Jon stopped in the door and looked back to her. "How bad?" She asked, her voice barely a whisper._

" _What?" Jon responded quickly, his impatience obvious._

" _Jon." She demanded, her voice more resolute, causing his back to straighten. "How bad is it?"_

" _Is the fancy Lady of the Reach-" Jon began to joke, smile evident in his voice._

" _Jon." Margaery coldly stated, upset and anger welling up inside her._

 _His expression became solemn and he looked back at her sheepishly. "Everything will be fine, Margaery." He said seriously, running from the door before she could hurt him, though Margery doubted she could do him while wounded and abed._

 _A sigh, which Margaery had not even known she was holding, escaped from her as she sunk back into the bed. She really should not have been so excitable; her body ached all over and her head was in a daze, not to mention the obvious pain in her cheek. How bad was her wound? She only had a vague memory of her battle with the assassin, but the one thing she can vividly recall is the pain… it was awful. Obviously the wound was not too bad, as she was alive and could act normally, but why did the man have to swing the knife at her face? Had she been rendered hideous and Jon just did not have the heart to be honest with her? To tell her that she could now send village children running with a simple look? To tell her that men and women would forever look on her with pity, a disfigured highborn lady that no man would ever want?.. To tell her that Robb would never want her? Margaery couldn't help but think that… perhaps the wound may have been why Robb was not at her side? She was hideous now._

 _When Margaery had been thrown from her horse on her 11_ _th_ _nameday and could not walk after having her leg reset, Robb had sat vigil by her bedside for a week before his mother forced him away. When she had become ill after spending too much time outside on a particularly cold Winterfell evening, he had lied awake with her for days as she shook with a horrid cold. But now… after she had nearly been killed, he was nowhere to be found._

" _Margaery!"_

 _Margaery nearly jumped from her bed, as she was shaken from her thoughts by the call. She turned her head completely and was surprised to see Robb there, even though Jon had just left moments ago. She managed to give him a slight smile, which was matched with a joyful grin on his own as he ran towards her bed with near child-like glee._

 _He slowed once he finally reached the bed, worry crossing his face, only to be replaced again by joy. He squeezed her shoulder gently, leaned down and kissed her on the forehead, avoiding the bandage, and ran his fingers through her hair, surprising Margaery. He had rarely been this affectionate with her before. She laughed at his excitement, ignoring the pain his harsh movements had caused her._

" _Sorry Margaery." He said sheepishly, smile still stretched across his face. "I should be more careful. It's only… It's… I've missed you dearly Margaery."_

" _Why? How long have I been asleep?" Margaery questioned, now suddenly worried._

 _Jon, who had been standing in the door way, laughed. "Not but two days, though I doubt Robb would have survived any longer. He barely left your chambers before Lady Stark came and nearly beat him for ignoring his duties."_

" _Maester Luwin was perfectly capable Jon. Such things can wait." Robb argued, his voice rough._

" _It seems-" Jon began, a rare grin on his lips._

" _Away with you before I tell Theon that you warned that serving girl about his plans for her." Robb interrupted him with a mischievous smile._

 _Margaery had to fight a giggle as Jon's face whitened, only the bickering of the two brothers would be able to cheer her from such a dark mood. When he immediately turned and scurried away, she couldn't even fight it and descended into laughter._

" _Only you could be attacked and wake up laughing Margaery." Robb said with a warm smile, unaware of the subtext of his words. Margaery's laughter quickly died, replaced by a wince one the memory of her pain returned to her. "Robb." Margaery whispered._

" _Aye?" He asked, frowning at the seriousness of Margaery's voice._

" _How bad is it?"_

" _The cut wasn't very deep. Maester Luwin said there was no danger and that you should be recovered-"_

 _Margaery cut him off with a squeeze of his arm. "Robb. You know of what I ask."_

 _Robb's face sobered. "That doesn't matter Margaery."_

" _Robb!" She said exasperatedly. "I am a Lady of a great house, whether I have been trapped in Winterfell my entire life or not. It matters!" Margaery finished, her anger getting the better of her before she realized the meaning of her words._

 _Robb's eye brows immediately narrowed in anger and Margaery could feel his fist clench. "Trapped?" He muttered, his words laced with disgust._

" _What?" Margaery breathed out, shocked by his anger. "Robb, you know what I meant."_

" _Aye. I think I understand perfectly-" He began, his rage rising along with his body._

" _Robb Stark!" She growled, her anger meeting his. "I misspoke. Believe it or not. I have not been laughing about this!" She seethed, her words thick with sarcasm and pointing to her bandages._

" _Margaery. I'm so-"_

" _No!" Margaery yelled, surprising him and causing him to fall back into his chair. "You will not simply apologize for this Robb! You will not doubt my loyalty to this family. I was attacked protecting your mother and brother! I will-"_

" _Margaery, I-"Robb tried to intercede._

" _I swear to the gods Robb. If you speak over me again, I will drag you to the wall and cast you off it myself." She stopped him with an angry smirk, her eyes fixed on his until he finally sighed of defeat. "I have been acting Lady of Winterfell. I chose to stay here in Winterfell, instead of going south, so that I could help you! I have lived my entire life here and I have spoken with you on multiple occasions upon my feelings that your family is my family. I swear it to the old gods and the new, the drowned god, the many-faced god and any other god anyone has ever dreamt up; if you ever doubt my love for this family, I will leave and never come back. Now you will tell me, because for a lady in this land it matters, how bad is it?" She finished with an angry flourish._

 _She heard Robb mumble something, but failed to make it out. If he thought a half-hearted acceptance would appease her, he was truly a fool. "Speak louder Robb!"_

" _It is of no matter to me." He whispered, slightly louder._

" _What?" She returned, confused._

" _The scar. It's of no matter." He said again._

 _Her heart fluttered at his words, but she still hadn't moved past her anger. "That is ridiculous Robb. It matters! How bad is it?"_

" _I thought you had died Margaery." He said, his voice barely registering._

" _What?"_

" _When I found you on the ground. There was blood everywhere. Your face was covered in it. Even when father beheaded deserters, there was not so much blood. Maester Luwin said face wounds simply bleed a lot, but at the time I had no idea. I only saw you, face covered in blood. I thought you had died Margaery." He continued. "No scar will matter to me."_

" _Robb-" Margaery began, regretting her anger._

" _I missed you Margaery." He interrupted her quickly. Perhaps she could ignore her earlier threat for interruptions like that._

" _It has only been 2 nights Robb." Margaery said calmly, her earlier rage replaced by concern._

" _Aye. Mighty pathetic of me." He joked, shaking his head. "I can hardly survive two days without you."_

 _Margaery reached out for his hand again and squeezed strongly. "Robb. I am very glad to hear that, but how bad is it. I beg of you, I must know."_

" _I haven't seen it since it was wrapped Margaery."_

" _Well. Then I believe it is time to remove my bandages." She said resolutely._

" _Margaery, we wouldn't want to reopen the-"_

" _Robb. Maester Luwin always says that wounds must be allowed to breathe." Margaery lied, trying her best to convince him._

" _Really?" Robb asked, a look of surprise on his face. "He has never spoken of that with me."_

" _He likely believed the information would not make its way through your thick northern skull. I always did do better in our lessons than you." She japed, trying to ignore the slight feeling of guilt in the pit of her stomach. Lord Stark had quite successfully instilled the Stark hatred of lies within her, though she was still quite good at it._

" _Aye." Robb said with a resigned sigh. "I shall unwrap it for you. Wouldn't want you hurting yourself."_

" _Ah yes, because your hands are so delicate after your years in the tiltyard." She returned with a smile._

" _You may be a southern Lady Margaery, but we both know your hands are about as gentle as an Umber." Robb replied snarkily, as he began to gently remove the bandager from her head, his actions more soft than likely necessary, only to be interrupted by her playful smack._

" _Just remove the clothes and do your best not to bleed me dry." She said happily, glad to see the return of their usual banter._

 _It only took Robb several more moments before the last pieces of cloth were being removed from her face. Margaery began studying his face intently. While Robb would never speak poorly of her scar aloud, his expression would surely betray him. Margaery had always been able to read his emotions quite easily and that had only increased after he was given control of Winterfell and become more stressed in his duties. When she finally felt the last piece of cloth leave her cheek, her stomach immediately dropped as Robb visibly flinched before replacing his look of momentary, what Margaery could only describe as disgust, with an easy smile._

" _Oh gods" Margaery cried out with a soft wail._

" _Margaery!" Robb called out frantically. "Did I hurt you? Gods, I'm sorry. I'll go-"_

" _No!" She quickly retorted. "You didn't do me any harm. It's only-"_

" _Margaery, what's the matter?" Robb asked, worry still evident._

" _I'm hideous aren't I?" She whispered quietly, unable to meet his eyes._

" _Margaery." He said strongly, increasing the strength of his grip on her hand. "That scar shows your love for my family and that is the only way it will ever matter."_

 _Margaery nodded her head, trying to fight the tears at the corners of her eyes. She knew he was simply trying to cheer her, but his unwillingness to comment on its effect on her beauty was devastating. She had never thought herself to be overly beautiful, but she had thought herself pretty; it now appeared even that was no longer the case._

" _Margaery." She heard Robb state, before he lay his finger under her chin and forced her to meet his eyes. "Everything will be fine."_

 _She again nodded her head, but again with little truth in her actions. She was sure of it now. The assassin may not have killed her, but the scar he had left had basically marked her for dead, a life of misery as a disgusting witch._

 _Robb continued squeezing her hand and attempting to reassure her with clearly empty words, but she paid them no mind. He was likely only trying to spare her feelings; they both knew he now thought her hideous._

 _She was shaken from her thoughts when a strong, though quiet voice interrupted Robb's attempts. "I was quite clear in asking that I be alerted immediately once Lady Margaery awoke, my Lord." The voice, who Margaery quickly identified as Maester Luwin, spoke out._

" _Aye Maester Luwin. I forgot myself in my excitement at Margaery's return." Robb answered, shame at his forgetfulness evident in his words._

" _You should not have removed her bandages without me present Lord Robb." The old maester scolded, his tone the same as that from their days as young ones._

" _Margaery said-" Robb began, before quickly being interrupted again by the aged man._

" _If I had but a bit of gold for every time I had heard the words 'Margaery said' uttered from your mouth, I would be as rich as a Lannister by now Lord Stark." He said, eyebrow raised._

" _Maester I-" Margaery attempted, finally breaking her silence._

" _Lady Margaery. I believe Lord Robb is the only one in these chambers, who does not know that he will listen to your every word, if you but mention your former lessons." Luwin joked, quickly ending her defense._

" _Yes, now let me see your wound." He said, beginning his work._

 _Margaery only had to lay in silence for several moments deep in thought before the Maester declared his work done and her wound well on its way to recovery, words which did little to improve Margaery's dark mood._

" _Is she free to move about the keep, Maester Luwin?" Robb asked, a hint of hopefulness in his tone._

" _No. Though the wounds on her face will not worsen, she should remain abed for several days to rest." The Maester returned calmly._

" _Gods be damned." Robb cursed loudly. "We need to have that meeting that Mother has been demanding."_

" _What meeting Robb?" Margaery asked, confused._

" _My mother suspects the Lannisters were behind your attack." Robb stated, causing Margaery to gasp before continuing. "She continues to badger me about meeting to discuss our plan going forward, but I wouldn't have one without you present. Damn, we shall simply have to have the meeting here, no matter what my mother says."_

" _Robb that is completely unnecessary. I am sure you can inform me as to what our plans are after the-" Margaery tried to reassure him, before being harshly interrupted._

" _No!" He growled. "That is exactly what my mother said and I will have you take part in these discussions. You are a part of this family and I value your input."_

 _Margaery, shocked by the anger in his words, could only nod quietly, as Robb let go of her hand and rushed towards the exit of the room, saying "I shall gather the others and return shortly," before he seemed to remember something, returned to the bed and kissed her softly on the forehead, giving her an emotional look and a final squeeze of the hand. Maester Luwin then followed him out of her chambers, leaving Margaery alone with nothing but her thoughts._

At least the meeting has been quite successfully, Margaery thought to herself, her focus finally wandering from the dark recesses of her mind and thoughts of disgusting scars. Although Lady Stark had seemed quite adamant in it being unnecessary for them to meet in Margaery's chambers for some unknown reason. Were it not for Robb's harsh insistence, they likely would have reconvened in the Lord's chambers without Margaery. While Margaery was glad he valued her presence there, she hardly saw the reasoning for her needing to be there. She was simply told that she would retain the duties of Lady of Winterfell, when Lady Catelyn left for King's Landing, again to Catelyn's harsh chagrin, and that she was not to tell anyone of their plans. Two things of which Margaery was already well aware. Margaery hated to think poorly of the woman who had taken her into her home for years, but Lady Catelyn had been nearly insufferable lately. She would be lying if she were to say that she was going to be saddened by her imminent departure; at least Margaery would then be free of her constant annoyances.

A faint knock at the door caused Margaery to jump from her seat, her eyes finally breaking from the new scar on her face. She merely dismissed it, assuming it to be a serving girl, until it came again, this time with more force.

"You may enter!" Margaery called out, voice still somewhat weak from her tumultuous days.

She turned from her chair to see the resident bitch of Winterfell, Catelyn herself enter, her hands clasped in front of her. "Greetings, Margaery, I wanted to bid you farewell before I departed for King's Landing."

"Thank you Lady Stark." Margaery said, politely, rising from her seat. She may have been quite angered with Catelyn lately, but she would not give her any more reason for this recent hatred and forget her manners. "I hope you have safe travels, though I confess it was unnecessary for you to step away from time with your children to see me."

"Nonsense. And as always you may call me Catelyn, Margaery." Catelyn retorted with seemingly fake politeness and a forced smile, causing Margaery to frown; in the past she had always been invited to refer to her as Cat.

"Was there anything specific you needed of me Catelyn?" Margaery asked, her patience waning.

"Aye. You've always been quick-witted, even as a young girl." Catelyn told her, a genuine smile on her lips.

"Thank you Catelyn." Margaery responded, wary of her intentions.

"I feel it is necessary for us to… come to terms if you will, Margaery?" She asked, eyebrow raised. When she received no response, Catelyn continued. "You have likely noticed that I have not been… very accommodating lately."

"Of course not Lady Stark." Margaery began. "You have always been very accepting of my presence in your home."

"You need not lie to me, Margaery. I am well aware of how I have acted towards you." She spoke quite curtly, surprising Margaery with her bluntness.

When Margaery again failed to respond, Catelyn began again. "As always, I bare no ill will for you Margaery. You have been the closest thing to a daughter to me, besides those borne from my own loins, and were the situation different, I would not be so adamant in this… Alas this is the world we were borne into and I will not put my family at risk in order to take a stand against such a situation."

"Catelyn, I'm afraid I do not understand. What is it that-" Margaery tried to intercede, still confused, but unhappy with the direction this conversation was headed.

"You are not the Lady of Winterfell. Even with me gone, you will never be the Lady of Winterfell." Catelyn interrupted her harshly, slight anger in her words.

"Lady Catelyn. I am aware that I am only fulfilling the duties of Lady of Winterfell because of the pressure on Robb. I have no false ideas about my place." Margaery began, irritated by Catelyn's insinuations, no matter how accurate they may have been.

"Margaery." Catelyn said, a likely false smile on her lips, as she took Margaery's hand in her own. "I see the way you look at my son and I understand why." She began with a prideful smile. "He is a handsome man, much like my brother Edmure, though without any of my brother's vices with women, and I know that you care for him greatly with little care for his future as the warden of the north." Catelyn paused momentarily, preventing Margaery's interruption with a motherly stare. "And I even believe that you would make Robb quite happy, but you are not his and he is not yours. He has duties as heir to Winterfell and you will be found a suitable match by your father… as difficult as that now may be." She added cruelly. "You will never be married to Robb and you will never be Lady of Winterfell. Do not forget your place here and why it is that you are in the north."

Margaery, in both shock and anger, was unable to form any words of response to Catelyn's harsh monologue. "Is that clear enough for you Margaery?"

Margaery could only nod her head, ashamed at her inability to fight and rage against Catelyn's words, knowing the truth of them under her cruelty.

"I am departing for King's Landing quite soon. Remember what I said and tread carefully. We cannot let word of what we plan leave Winterfell." She finished, standing and leaving Margaery without another word, firmly closing the door behind her.

Margaery sat dumbfounded for several moments, until she re-found her rage. Who in the seven hells did Lady Stark think she was? She knew that Robb had duties, but Robb could make his own decisions and if he wanted a scarred, hideous wife, who would likely gain him the hatred of his northern lords, then he could very well have her. She was well aware of it no longer mattering, Robb would never want a marked and broken wife, but she was damned if that would be because of Lady Stark.

If Lady Stark thought that Margaery could add nothing to the family, then she would simply force her to eat her words. She grabbed a piece of parchment and began writing furiously.

… _I implore you. Go to him. He may not be our family, but he is my family, and he will need you. The ties we have to these wolves are strong and we must help them, for there will come another day when the honor of the north will save our family again._

After finishing the letter, she sealed it and walked towards the door. She knew that Robb would scold her for leaving her chambers before Maester Luwin said she was ready, but she was too filled with spite for Lady Stark to stop herself from trying to prove her wrong.


	9. Chapter 8

**Supremus85: Keep in mind that the Tyrells were technically a disgraced house in this storyline. While Robert Baratheon did not take away their wardenship of the south or Highgarden because of their power and Ned Stark's mercy, they are not in the same place as they were in the real timeline. Also. Yes, Catelyn is always crazy; her actions later in canon show that she can be blinded by her ideas and not see the political picture well when it comes to her children, at least to me, though I am not a big fan of Cat.**

 **Adirtycanadian: Thanks, I've been thinking about maybe doing an interlude with a different character, but I'm not really sure yet.**

 **XBolt51: Thanks! Cat is actually one of my least favorite characters in the canon, because at least the "villains" are just being villains, whereas she just makes bad choices occasionally.**

 **Nellaus: First, I wanted to say Great Comments, so basically with the Cat/Margaery thing, I was treating it as that Catelyn is trying to protect her son, but just became to obsessed with it and demonized Margaery. It's based in a central logic of protecting Robb and trying to keep him away from Margaery for his inevitable later political marriage, but morphed into a vendetta because I believe Cat can be irrational. If I excluded Theon, then that was just me being forgetful and nothing thinking about it, sorry about that. If I'm being honest, the time difference had not even occurred to me at all, so great catch; the war of the five kings is still going to happen, in a slightly different way. Let's be honest though, in the books and show that is an awfully big coincidence and suspend your disbelief moment, so the same logic will apply in that they just meet somewhere else, further north than in canon.**

 **ATP: Yes, the classic brilliance of Catelyn Stark. If you couldn't tell I am not a big fan, when I watch the show she just frustrates me to no end and she doesn't even get the more redeeming and awesome Lady Stoneheart storyline which happened in the books.**

 **GamerGirl10: Thanks! Yeah, someone complained about me bashing a character, which I made up (or is somewhere in canon that I am completely unaware of and there was a massive coincidence), so I didn't really know how to react, and I will continue writing the story no matter what because I do enjoy it.**

 **A/N: Hey guys, holy shite I'm back. So first, 200 favorites and over 300 follows! That's pretty awesome given that this is basically my first ever attempt at creative writing at all and I'd like to thank everyone who enjoys the story and has given me feedback with special shout out to GamerGirl010, whose reviews probably got me to get back to writing this when I was sick. Anyways, this chapter is a little shorter than normal, but this interaction here which serves of the basis of the chapter was one of the first things I thought of for this story and I liked it a lot. Plus, I have to work in some Tyrion Lannister when I can, because I'm not going to go crazy AU and have him magically join the Starks or something like that, which is the sort of thing that bugs me in fanfics. I'm going to ignore how awful I am and that this is the first chapter in months. Here's the chapter!**

 **Chapter 8: Margaery Tyrell- Weeks later.**

Margaery had to fight the urge to look on the little dwarf with obvious disdain. Something which Robb, who sat by her side, was completely unable to do. If looks could kill, the imp would be burning in the Seven Hells right now. She understood why, truly she did. Robb, and Margaery as well, believed the Lannisters to be responsible for his brother's becoming a cripple. However, that did not change that Robb needed to behave himself; he was the Lord of Winterfell, not a spiteful little boy, and he needed to treat his guests with respect and hospitality, especially an uncle of the future king and a technical heir to wardenship of the west. Besides, in what little time Margaery had spent with the imp during his earlier visit, she did not think him to be capable of hurting an innocent boy, no matter the rumors. Simply by peering down at him form the lord's table, Margaery could tell there was more to his show of aloof arrogance than Tyrion Lannister would like anyone else to believe. Not only was he not nearly as monstrous as many made out his appearance to be, but Margaery had a feeling that there was a certain vulnerability in the dwarf… a pleasantness almost.

Yet, of all days, Tyrion Lannister, whose blonde hair and green eye obviously marked him as Lannister, had to arrive at Winterfell today, when Robb had asked her to finally sit at his side in the spot designated for the Lady of Winterfell. She had been quite surprised by Robb's request, though it was really more of a suggestion. Margaery had been fulfilling the duties of Lady Stark for some time now… well …. not all the duties, but all the ones that involved clothing, so Margaery believed she did deserve the honor of being seated in the Lady of the keep's rightful place, but with her current… condition she was not sure that Robb would want her there. The people of Winterfell likely would not appreciate a hideous beast in the spot where generations of beautiful women had been sat.

However, Robb had asked her anyways, easily dismissing her suggestions that it was a poor idea, and now that the time had come, she found herself quite happy to be there at Robb's side, even if she could feel the stares of many of the visitors of Winterfell. She could feel their stares. Every man who entered the hall would automatically let his eyes drift towards her hideous scar. Every woman saw her and fixed her with a look of pity. She did not want pity. She wanted respect; she was the Lady of Winterfell in all but name and those who entered the keep should look at her in awe. A naïve notion, she knew, for a scarred woman. Despite that, she still enjoyed being sat with Robb and aiding in his decisions. Occasionally, Robb would turn towards her, his eyes begging her for advice, and he seemed to respect her opinion quite a lot; in most cases he would follow her word and do as she suggested, definitely more so than Jon and Theon, and maybe even the old Maester himself.

All this changed when the damned dwarf made his way into the great hall. Robb immediately tensed and seethed with anger, while even the more level-headed Jon and Maester Luwin were quite obviously peeved, though in a manner that only those familiar with them could notice. Theon simply seemed bored. Margaery tried to give Robb a pointed look, but his gaze was fixed solely on the Lannister before him.

"Greetings Lord Stark." The little man began with his usual arrogant drawl. "I would ask to receive the renowned hospitality of Winterfell for myself and my companion Yoren here, sworn brother of the Night's Watch. Though I first must say, you have quite the unusual high table Lord Stark; a bastard and a young woman, who is neither wife nor sister. Let it never be said that the people of the north are an uninteresting bunch."

Somehow, though Margaery could hardly believe it possible, Robb seemed to grow even more enraged, before turning to the man at the imp's side and saying "Any man of the Night's Watch will always have a place at Winterfell. I will have the maids prepare a room for you."

"Thank you Lord Stark" The grizzled watchmen stated. "The Watch is grateful as always for the support of House Stark."

"Any man of the Night's Watch, but not me then Lord Stark?" Tyrion quipped, annoyance apparent on his face.

"Lord Tyrion, I would remind you that-" Robb began to say darkly, his Stark temper beginning to show, before Margaery interrupted him with a harsh squeeze of the hand. Robb turned to her quickly, annoyance clear in his eyes, but fixed her with a questioning glare. She could only respond with a shake of the head before turning back towards the Lannister before her.

The imp, who Margaery was learning was perhaps even more clever than rumored, lifted an eyebrow and smirked at the exchange. "I see the new Lady of Winterfell is far kinder to highborn guests than the Lord."

"Lord Tyrion, I am not the-" Margaery began to counter before immediately being interrupted by a slam of the table, which caused her to nearly jump from her seat.

"The only Lady of Winterfell is my mother thanks to your family!" Robb stated harshly. Margaery was secretly impressed that Robb did not reveal his mother's absence even in his anger, but that still did not excuse his behavior at this moment. Margaery also frowned at the implication of his words; she was basically the Lady of Winterfell at this point and she had thought herself to be a Lady of Winterfell for some time.

"Ah yes. Curious is it not that Lady Catelyn Stark is not present today?" The dwarf asked. "Where is your lady mother Lord Stark? Surely she would not approve of your treatment of guests?"

"My mother is attending to some of her other duties at the moment Lord Lannister, but I do believe that my mother would approve of my actions today." Robb said, slightly less anger in his voice.

"Interesting." Tyrion simply stated.

Robb opened his mouth to speak again, but Margaery gently grabbed his arm again. When he turned towards her, she simply shook her head, which he met with a nod of acceptance and silence.

"As always, House Stark opens its doors to you Lord Tyrion." Margaery commanded, her eyes only leaving Robb when it became clear he would not interrupt her.

"Is it no longer House Tyrell, Lady Margaery?" The imp returned with a teasing smirk. Margaery knew he was simply trying to get a rise out of her and continued as if he had said nothing.

"The maids shall prepare a room for you as well Lord Tyrion. Is there anything else you require of Winterfell at this time?" Margaery finished, pleased that no one had questioned her right to speak for House Stark.

Margaery, and likely the entirety of those present at court, was quite surprised when the dwarf presented young Bran with a saddle, which would allow him to ride despite the loss of his legs. Although the Lannister seemed to enjoy japing, his actions had only confirmed her initial thoughts that he was different from the rest of his family. Softer.

The rest of court was rather mundane, mostly disputes between the small folk and requests for aid, which Robb and Maester Luwin easily handled on their own, despite Jon having left to escort the dwarf to his chambers.

As soon as they were finished, Robb extended his arm to Margaery and began to escort her from the hall as he always did, but she could tell something was amiss. His posture was stiff and the silence they walked in was awkward, not comfortable like normal. Likely Robb was angry with her about her conversation with the imp, though she was not in the mood to handle Robb in his current state. "Perhaps Bran would like to go on a ride with us in the morn on his new saddle Robb." She said, trying to change his mood without provoking his obviously poor mood.  
"I did not like the manner in which you dealt with the imp." Robb said coldly, not looking her in the eye.

"Well I did not like the manner in which you dealt with a high-born guest of Winterfell." Margaery returned equally as coldly, unsurprised by his anger with her. It seemed that for some time Robb and herself had often been finding themselves in small rows.

"He tried to kill my brother… your brother." Robb whispered, finally meeting her gaze.

"Robb." She said softly, resting her hand on his shoulder and halting their pace. "I do believe that his family was behind what happened to Bran, but I truly do not think the imp is to blame. Although he may often act otherwise, he often times seems quite nice; murdering a small boy does not appear to be in his nature."

Robb sighed before responding. "Aye. I agree."

"If you agree, then why were you so dismissive of him and why were you angry with me for correcting your actions?" Margaery demanded, slightly peeved.

"My anger got the better of me today Margaery. It is no excuse, but it is the truth of the matter. It is a wonder that you are here to hold court with me, otherwise Winterfell would likely no longer be standing." He continued with a smile.

"Your anger has been getting the better of you quite often lately Robb." Margaery whispered, eyes turning down to her hands, which were now turning over one another in her anxiousness.

Robb was simply quiet for a moment before sighing again. "Aye. I would blame it on the wolfsblood, but I think in this case it is just me." He paused and looked contemplative. "I do not mean to cause you upset Margaery. I will work to reign in my temper better… especially with you." He finished sincerely.

Margaery finally looked back to his face and could see the sincerity in his eyes. "That is all I can ask of you Robb. Now come, let us check on Jon. We wouldn't want the imp to corrupt your innocent brother." Margaery joked, trying to lighten the mood, before she grabbed Robb's arm and began to drag him through the halls again.

"Lady Margaery!" She heard called down the hall behind her. Margaery turned and quickly recognized the elderly Maester as he drew closer to where Robb and herself were standing.

"Aye Maester Luwin?" Margaery questioned, unsure of why the man would interrupt her time with Robb.

"A raven arrived for you this morning; I had meant to bring it to you earlier, but it must have slipped my mind." He said with a small, knowing smile as he handed a piece of parchment to her. Margaery turned it over in her hand and smiled when she saw the Tyrell seal looking back at her, likely her Grandmother was responding to her letter, hopefully with good news.

"Who is the letter from Margaery?" Robb asked with what seemed like innocent curiosity.

Margaery hesitated before deciding that she shouldn't trouble Robb with the knowledge of her letter; likely she was being overly-cautious and they would never need the support of house Tyrell. "I would guess a letter from my grandmother. You know how she is, mostly likely her normal complaints of my father destroying the reach and my mother being an idiot." She lied easily.

"Aye." Robb muttered paling slightly. "I would know better than most. I often forget that she is not mine own grandmother, the number of times she has given me a nice verbal lashing."

"Oh hush." Margaery mocked. "She is no harsher on you than anyone else. If anyone has right to complain it is Jon, she always was quite rough on your brother."

"Aye." Robb stated, clearly tired of speaking about the Queen of Thorns. "Shall we continue our rescue mission of Jon?"

Margaery frowned and looked down at the letter still in her hands. She desperately wanted to know what her Grandmother had written to her. "Unfortunately, I ought to respond to my grandmother. We wouldn't want her upset with us." Margaery returned with a single brow raised.

"Oh. Yes. Of course." Robb responded dejectedly. "The lone knight must walk alone to save his maiden brother. The bards shall sing songs of my adventures." He finished, his humor returning to him.

Margaery laughed aloud and said her farewell before rushing to her chambers on her own. Once she entered, she quickly ripped the letter open and began to read its contents.

 _Dearest Margaery,_

 _I received your letter and am quite pleased with you. I assume I am right in saying that the pleasantries that began your letter were unimportant and I will address the true meaning behind your urgent correspondence, though really how much trouble is it to write to your dear old grandmother. I am glad that living in that desolate tundra you call home has not completely sapped you of your brains as I once had feared. You are not wrong in that Lord Stark will likely need help in order to survive King's Landing, though if I suspect right (and I often do), then I do believe there is more to your letter than you entrusted to a raven. Smart girl. Oddly enough for all of us, I was already on my way to King's Landing when I received your letter, which only hastened my traveling group's pace. Great minds must think alike my dear Margaery. While my time in Kind's Landing has been quite short, during it I gained the friendship of a lovely little princess, who with the approval of her Father at Ned Stark's helpful advice has joined me on my journey back to High Garden much to her mother's chagrin. It was not difficult to convince the King of such a visit, as the princess is now quite eager to see more of Westeros after her visit to the north (Though truly most of her excitement these days seems to be about that Stark boy you are so fascinated with. How she drags on about him.) Yet, I must ask myself who would have expected an important member of the royal family to grace us lowly traitors with her presence so far from the safety of her family. Curious really. As always I miss you dearly Margaery and if you need anything of me, you must only send a raven. In the mean time, I will be sure to keep the princess quite entertained in High Garden._

 _With warmest regards,_

 _Your Grandmother._

Margaery smiled after reading the words before her. She had expected her Grandmother to help protect the Starks in some way, but by taking what amounted to a Lannister hostage she had ensured the protection of her entire family. As awful as it was, if anything does happen between the Starks and Lannisters, the Lannisters would have to know that the Starks would basically have the princess Myrcella in their own custody with Margaery still acting as a Stark hostage, as much as her life in Winterfell was anything but.

As she thought further, Margaery's smile began to slowly slip from her face. What would Robb think? She wondered. He certainly would not be happy with her; such politicking and backroom maneuvering was very un-northern like and he had seemed quite fond of the princess, even if it was more brotherly fondness than anything. Really, he would be quite incensed by her taking actions without his knowledge, even if it was in defense of his house. No, Robb mustn't know and Margaery was going to make sure it stayed that way until it became absolutely necessary.

 **This chapter was written while listening to Wolf Alice, a great indie/alt rock band from London. (I am going to be sharing band recommendations at the end of every chapter, basically because I can)**

 **Anyways, if there are any Robbcella people out there, I wrote a one-shot the other day to get my creative juices flowing if you wanna check it out… or don't, doesn't really matter.**


	10. Chapter 9

**CrazyCaz: If I remember correctly, I think Catelyn makes a comment about how it would have been better for Robb to fall in bed with Margaery Tyrell rather than Jeyne Westerling in the books (though that may just be a fanfic creation), which may have caused a lot of it. In general, I think ASOIF/GOT are interesting fan-fic fandoms in that way because pairings (especially with Robb) are not based on character interactions in the show/books, but more so in the potential of that alliance, so anything can work. I'm really glad you enjoy the fic though and thanks for the review!**

 **RHatch89: Thanks! I didn't really know how I felt about that update, as I had been stuck on it for so long, but I am glad you liked it!**

 **Fapman: Thanks for the check on it. I'm not going to mess with it, because as far as canonical errors go, I'm not really concerned about things like that and that's a pretty constant thing in fan fiction, so I'm just gonna leave it be. Thanks for the review! Right now, with the story, I am stuck between wanting to get to where the relationship starts to spice up and wanting to cover parts of the story that I feel Margaery and Jon being present in could spice up, so I am somewhat taking a middle-road and trying to do both. Its coming soon though, so don't worry.**

 **Nerdwarf: Thanks! I'm assuming you are referring to the letter from Olenna. I really enjoy Myrcella Baratheon's character and had a really big idea for her, so I wanted to work her in. Frankly, this mostly happened because of DizzyDG's "Wolf Pact", which is my favorite work of fan-fiction ever and everyone should read. Not only is that story great, but the writing in all his/her stories is brilliant (which many of you probably already know) and his/her technical skill is really something I look up to as a writer. It basically made me ship Robbcella (though this story is still Robbaery, no worries).**

 **GamerGirl010: Thanks for the review as always!**

 **Spectre4hire: Thanks for the reviews on the last few chapters! I'm not going to specifically respond, because they were about old ones, but I do appreciate it!**

 **A/N: Hey guys, its Robbaery week, so I thought I'd do my part! So I would like your input on something. I feel that looking back, my quality of writing was somehow way better in the first couple chapters than it is now. Not necessarily in content (though that may be the case), but in the technicalities of it. Is that something anyone else has noticed? Anyways, thanks as always for the reviews, the favorites, and the follows!. Just a warning that there was a time jump here of skipping some Game of Thrones content. I felt that rehashing Game of Thrones material and just throwing Margaery in is not the point of fan fiction, so I chose to skip the scene with Robb killing the Wildlings and the banners being called. On to the chapter though, I tried to combine two main scenes here into one chapter, so as to speed up the story a bit. This chapter also got super long, which I wasn't ready for. Let me know what you think and as always I own nothing!**

 **Side Note: For anyone who read my One-Shot "A Princess' Anger". It will no longer be a One-Shot! I'm thinking about adding a chapter or two to it, spread more Robbcella in the world.**

 **Chapter 9: Margaery Tyrell- Over a month Later**

If someone had told Margaery that she would somehow become even more upset in the time after learning the man she loved was going to war, she would have called them a liar. If someone had then told her that she would become impossibly angry at that man right before she was going to war, then she would have called them a fool. Yet, as always, if someone had told her that man was Robb Stark, she would have immediately known it to be the truth. Again, Robb Stark defied all expectations and managed to enrage her to a point she had never thought possible. Palms nearly shaking with anger, she looked down to her hand and again read the note she had just been given by a maid.

 **Margaery,**

 **You will be staying in Winterfell when I march. I will be sure to bid you farewell in person before then.**

 **Robb.**

Margaery had not even finished reading the note before she stormed from her chambers, ready to rip his lordly face off. It was bad enough that Robb believed he could give her orders or that he thought she would not be accompanying him south, neither of which were happening, but the nerve of his arrogant arse to send a note telling her so? If he was too cowardly to command her in person, then Lord Umber had certainly been right when he called him a boy so green he could piss grass. Every army in all of Westeros would crush Robb's army, if he could not even muster the courage to confront some Tyrell girl with his decision. Margaery was sure that if his mother wasn't galivanting in the Vale with that damned dwarf, he would be hiding behind her skirts as always and sending her as his messenger.

Margaery had not been there when Robb had first heard news of his mother's capturing of the dwarf, nor when he received word of Lord Stark's arrest. Not that she particularly needed to be; she had many other duties to attend to and Robb had made the correct decision in both cases, even with Theon whispering in his ear to do otherwise. Only the gods know why Robb respects the kraken boy's advice so much; he's a fool and the son of a traitor, but at least Robb still had Jon and Luwin to rely upon, they wouldn't steer him wrong. As always, Robb had spoken to her about what to do in both cases and she had given her advice as readily as always, first to do nothing and then to call the banners when Lord Stark was declared traitor. They were the correct choices.

That is not to say that Margaery was not troubled by the decision to go to war. She will probably always question whether they should have done so, but it had become inevitable when that murderous bastard Joffrey was demanding Robb's presence in King's Landing. If Robb were to bend the knee, it would be both he and Lord Eddard to lose their heads. Anyone who thought otherwise had clearly never met the annoying, little bastard. As soon as she had learned of Lord Stark's arrest, she knew that the north would be marching to war… rightfully so.

Yet, she still worried. For Lord Stark obviously. The man had basically been the only father she had ever known and he had saved her life when she was but a babe at the breast. Margaery even worried for Bran and Rickon, who would be left all alone in Winterfell to rule in Robb's stead with only Maester Luwin to guide them. Mostly though, Margaery worried for Robb. As much as he denied it, Robb was far too young to be going to war. He continued to argue that he is of a similar age to what Lord Eddard was when he marched to war, but that still did not change the fact that he had only killed his first man some weeks ago and would now be leading an army of 20,000 northerners. Even though he was talented in the tiltyard, Robb was not a killer, he didn't relish in fighting. He was kind, caring, and sweet under his lordly mask; someone who would rather live out his days with his family then ever see the rest of the world or the field of battle. Robb just was not ready to go to war, if he ever really would be.

Thinking back, Margaery realized that these were near the same words many of Robb's bannermen had been shouting when they had first gathered. Margaery didn't know why, but Robb had insisted on her presence during the meeting, something which she had begrudgingly accepted at the time, but was now glad of.

 _Margaery had met most of the northern lords and she had never really had a problem with them in the past, but now that they were all together she wasn't as certain about her feelings in regards to them. Looking around the hall, she realized the lords were a bit too aggressive and angry for Margaery's taste, especially when it came to Robb. While the northern people were warm and welcoming, the lords seemed completely incapable of accepting Robb as their liege, likely because of his Tully coloring and little else. The only Lord who seemed calm and controlled at the moment was Lord Bolton, who was the furthest person from what Margaery would describe as an ideal lord. Even his eyes alone were disconcerting._

 _She couldn't help but think that her presence at Robb's side was hurting her rapport with the harsh northerners. Margaery was glad Robb valued her input enough to keep her at his side, but she was doing him no favors in convincing the northerners he was worthy of leading them; even the ever-faithful Mormont she-bears seemed weary of her presence. Though she doubted Robb meant anything of it, Margaery knew her position suggested that Robb wanted her as Lady of Winterfell to the northern lords, all of whom clearly desired their own daughters to attain that spot. It's ironic, Margaery thought, that they would so blatantly disrespect Robb in his own hall when they coveted him so obviously for their precious daughters._

 _All of this paled in comparison to how embarrassed she was to be sat before the lords as a ruined woman. Many of the lords had seen Margaery before and even commented upon her beauty. While Margaery had always known they were only being polite or flattering, she knew she would no longer be getting any such comments. She was scarred and ugly, why did Robb insist on parading her before the lords of the north? The lords were already mad enough and placing a hideous beast before them would certainly garner him no favor._

 _Lord Umber especially seemed peeved at the situation after Robb had so clearly dismissed his own daughter. Margaery was somewhat surprised Erika Umber hadn't been brought back to Winterfell to be placed in Robb's lap again, but the Great Jon likely didn't want to risk his whore of a daughter being near so many young lordlings, her 'maidenhood,' if it even existed, likely wouldn't have survived._

 _Margaery was brought out of her thoughts when the very man she had been contemplating yelled something from across the table. "And what is she doing here Lord Robb?!" The giant exclaimed, clearly speaking of Margaery as he looked her dead in the eyes._

" _To whom would you be referring Lord Umber?" Robb replied coldly, his eyes not leaving the Umber man's._

" _You know exactly of whom I speak boy! That Tyrell at your side!" The Great Jon yelled back, clearly angered at Robb's lack of response. Margaery could see Robb immediately tense at the use of 'boy', but he seemed to still be maintaining control of his emotions. She was ready to intervene if need be as she knew she could calm Robb quite easily. Though, frankly, she doubted a show of her influence over Robb would do him any favors, so she would have to restrain herself for the time being._

" _She is a Lady of the North just as much as your daughter and any of your daughters." Robb spoke, looking between the different lords around him. "Lady Margaery has lived her entire life in Winterfell and has grown up at my side. She is just as much of the north as I am." He finished challengingly, likely he knew his Tully look did him no favors with the Lords of Winter, but Robb seemed to be wagering that the Lords wouldn't question this aloud; any suggestion otherwise would be a great slight against Lady Stark. Margaery smirked, slightly impressed with Robb's words; the Great Jon would have a difficult time countering that._

" _Lady of the North!" Lord Umber exclaimed exasperatedly. "Look at Her! She is dressed like a southern flower because she IS a southern flower!" Margaery subconsciously glanced down at her dress, which was in the same southern style she had been wearing since her discussion with her Grandmother. If Margaery had put more thought into it, she likely would have worn a dress in the northern style on this night, but she had thought nothing of it much to her own disappointment. She had promised herself that she would protect Robb and here she was worsening his position with his strongest bannerman._

" _I was not aware it was a crime to wear dresses of a more southern nature Lord Umber." Robb replied still surprisingly easily. "If I remember correctly, your daughter seemed to prefer clothing of a similar cut in her time here." He finished with a single brown raised._

 _The Great Jon sputtered, before recovering and returning his ire to Margaery's direction. "My daughter has never left the north! Your Tyrell has no place amongst us and no place at your side!"_

" _Look upon her cheek and tell me she is no northerner Lord Umber." Robb began, causing Margaery to gasp slightly. Why would he ever bring that up? He knew how worried Margaery was about standing before the lords as a marked woman. He continued on, as if his words hadn't torn her apart. "That is proof that she has fought for the north; she is of the north. My Tyrell as you call her is at my side because I asked her to stay at my side and she will remain there until I decide otherwise. I value her input and in my experience we northerners do not doubt the abilities of women like they do in the north." Robb continued with a look to Lady Mormont and her daughter, both of whom only nodded in response. "Do any of the other Lords here have any objection to Lady Tyrell's presence here?"_

 _Margaery looked around and was shocked to see the other Lords shaking their heads to his question. She had assumed the other lords had shared in Lord Umber's distrust of her, though she was now pleasantly surprised to see that may not be the case. The Great Jon too seemed to recognize this and sat back down in defeat, grumbling quietly as he did so._

" _Now that we have taken care of that." Robb began after a moment, his annoyance still abundantly clear. "I have decided that Galbart Glover will lead the vanguard in our first battles with the Lannisters. I believe no other man is more equipped for such a task." Margaery turned and saw Lord Glover was nearly giddy with excitement at the prospect of such an honor, but nearly groaned when she saw Lord Umber bristle with even more anger. Why couldn't Robb have just chosen the Great Jon? Margaery thought to herself, the giant of a man was already angry with Robb and it would do no good to anger him even further._

 _Though, Lord Glover was at least a far better choice than Robb's original idea. He had been insistent that his brother Jon lead the vanguard, saying that a Stark should lead the men of the north. Margaery decided not to remind Robb that Jon was no Stark, as it would do no one any good and she cared little about his bastard status, and instead had joined Jon in informing Robb of how awful an idea that was. Giving the honor of leading the vanguard to someone, who many viewed as a boy, especially a bastard, would be seen as an insult to many of the northern lords. After some coaxing from Jon and herself, Margaery had finally convinced him otherwise, suggesting Lord Glover, but now it seemed she was even regretting that._

 _Surprisingly, Lord Umber only smiled grimly and spoke with obvious humor. "For 30 years I've been making corpses out of men, boy. I'm the man you want leading the vanguard." As much as Margaery didn't like the man… and his daughter, she quite agreed with him on that. Lord Umber and his berserkers would create quite a bit of chaos in the Lannister lines, though Margaery knew Robb would not back from his decision now._

" _Galbart Glover will lead the van." Robb replied humorlessly. Margaery quietly cursed Robb for his stubbornness, though she understood why he refused to budge. If Robb had bowed to Lord Umber's demand, then there was no chance of the northern lords ever respecting him, especially with a southern lady at his side during all his war meetings. Frankly, Margaery was again questioning why Robb had asked for he presence today; she hadn't really said anything to Robb or the lords._

" _The bloody wall will melt before an Umber marches behind a Glover!" Lord Umber exclaimed still in seemingly good humor, until his face darkened and he leaned forward. "I will lead the van or I will take my men and march them home."_

 _Margaery immediately turned to Robb at these words and saw his own face darken. She began to reach for his shoulder, but decided against it. Lord Umber was clearly pushing the limits to see what the next Lord of Winterfell would allow from his bannermen. Robb needed to establish himself without the appearance of her being a constant presence over his shoulder._

" _You are welcome to do so, Lord Umber." Robb said coldly, nodding his head as he began to rise to his feet. "And when I am done with the Lannisters, I will march back north, root you out of your home, and hang you for an oathbreaker." Margaery cringed at his words and looked to the Great Jon, just as every other set of eyes at the table did. She had never been both more proud and afraid of Robb than in that moment, he was not the young man she loved so much now, he was Lord Robb Stark in all his terrible glory._

 _The only man who appeared to match Robb's anger was Lord Umber, who knocked his cutlery to the side and jumped to his feet. "Oathbreaker is it?!" The man bellowed. "I'll not sit here and swallow insults from a boy so green he pisses grass!" Margaery only turned to face Robb and saw him begin to take a step forward with his hand grasping down towards the hilt of his sword. Deciding that Robb was likely about to lose his calm, Margaery grabbed him firmly by the shoulder and pulled him slightly back. His eyes met hers, boiling with anger, and she only shook her head quickly before seeing Greywind jump in the corner of her vision towards the Great Jon._

 _Margaery was shocked to see the young pup, who had always been so gentle with her, lunge at Lord Umber and attack without hesitation. To her side, even Robb seemed surprised and concerned at his direwolf's actions. Although the Great Jon had been blatantly flippant, he was still one of Robb's principal bannermen and it would do him no good to lose the Umber men._

 _Thankfully, Greywind let up on his attack and leapt away from the Great Jon. There was a moment of tense silence before Robb began speaking coldly as Lord Umber slowly rose. "My Lord father taught me it was death to bare steel against your liege lord. But doubtless the Great Jon only meant to cut my meat for me."_

 _Margaery couldn't help but take a step away from the table after Robb's words. The Great Jon had just been humiliated by Greywind and now Robb was mocking him? She cursed him silently knowing that Robb had likely just permanently angered one of his principle bannermen._

 _Unsurprisingly, the Great Jon kicked his stool across the room and stood up angrily. Margaery was waiting for him to storm out, damn Robb's threats, but instead he started speaking angrily._

" _Your meat-" He began before looking around and smiling, holding up his bloody stumps where his fingers once were. "is bloody tough." Margaery was shocked and looked around the room before turning to Robb. The Lords, led by Jon Umber, began laughing loudly, while Robb only grinned before joining in what Margaery thought may have been the fakest laugh she had ever witnessed from him. This was his lordly laugh clearly, and Margaery hated it, but he had dodged a dangerous situation with his lords, despite what Margaery had thought she knew about the customs of northern lords._

 _Again, much to Margaery's surprise, the Great Jon suddenly became Robb's staunchest supporter and even began looking upon herself with a brighter look. It was eventually decided that Lord Glover would indeed lead the van, though more importantly to Margaery it was decided that both she and Jon would be joining them in the south._

Apparently, Robb had forgotten those plans. Margaery was not about to let that continue. He should have known better than to think that she would simply follow his command without complaint, especially when that command was delivered to her by a maid on a slip of parchment. She'd sooner roll over dead then allow him to order her around like that, even more so about an issue that they had already discussed amongst the presence of his bannermen.

As Margaery made her way through the keep, she was greeted by a number of northmen, all of whom greeted her politely before scurrying away in the face of her icy glare. She would have to return to apologize later, but at the moment she was too angry with Robb to act any differently. His men would simply have to forgive her lack of courtesy for the time.

When she finally arrived at his solar, she didn't bother alerting him of her presence and opened the door without declaration. She entered to find him in discussion with the Great Jon and Lord Bolton, one of whom grinned at her rude entrance while the other only stared blankly.

"Aye!" Lord Umber called. "She truly is a woman of the north, Lord Robb!"

Robb looked up at her startled and narrowed his eyes. "Margaery you should not enter my study without-"

Margaery interrupted him quickly and narrowed her own eyes in return, before looking around to the men before her. "Lord Umber, Lord Bolton, if you would not mind, I would like a moment with Lord Stark. It is of the utmost importance."

To Margaery's surprise, Lord Bolton nodded his head slowly, without the slightest hesitance, while the Great Jon let out a booming laugh. Robb looked towards his bannermen and spoke, apology evident in his tone. "That won't be necessary Lord Umber, Lord Bolton." He then turned back towards Margaery and continued "We can speak later Margaery."

Again, to Margaery's shock, the Great Jon clapped Robb on the back, continuing to laugh and said "No, my boy! You've brought this on yourself. A true northwoman she is and you best listen to a woman of the north!" Before he looked to Lord Bolton, as both of them made their way out of the room, with a grin from the first and only another slight nod from the second.

"Margaery, That-" Robb began angrily, before Margaery interrupted again.

"How dare you send-" Margaery began to say enraged, before she was stopped by Robb's movement towards her.

"No." Robb commanded, using the lordly voice she had so rarely heard from him.

"Robb, I-" Margaery tried, her voice a little weaker.

"No." He spoke again, his face growing less angry, though the discontent still obvious in his voice. "Margaery. You will not do that in front of my bannermen again."

"Robb! I was-" Margaery returned, annoyed. Who was he to say what she could and could not speak in the presence of his bannermen? He had brought her along for many of the meetings with his lords, so didn't that mean he valued her input?

"You will not do that, Margaery!" Robb exclaimed, his voice a little louder. "How am I expected to be the leader of these men, when you do things like this? I have allowed you all the freedom I could, but you are endangering our family here!"

Margaery was taken aback by his words and responded without thought. "How am I endangering out family? You command me to stay at-"

"I know exactly why you are here and we will speak about that in a moment when we are finished." Robb silenced her dismissively. He had never spoken to her like this before and Margaery didn't like it.

She wanted to argue back, but instead only nodded. Clearly, this bickering would only serve to enrage them both.

Robb sighed and leaned back again his desk, before speaking again. "Margaery. I know this hasn't been easy on either of us, but you would say I have included you in my decisions, aye?"

Margaery nodded before trying to speak again. "Yes, but-"

Robb raised his hand to silence her before continuing. "And I have brought you before my lords quite often, even sat you at my side, aye?"

Margaery nodded again, not bothering to even attempt an interruption.

"And do you think me a fool?" Robb asked.

"Of course not!" Margaery exclaimed, somewhat confused by his line of questioning.

"Well then you must know that I am completely aware of what that suggests to my bannermen? What potential harm there is in my doing so?"

Margaery looked down at her hands, beginning to realize what he was arguing. "Aye."

"Then you must know that no matter what the Great Jon may say, if I allow you, a southern lady who is not my wife, to barge into my study when I am meeting with my two most important lords, to interrupt that meeting, and to dismiss them after I argued against you, what that suggests to my bannermen?"

Margaery only nodded her head, too ashamed to look him in the eyes.

"I want you to tell me what you think it means, Margaery." Robb challenged, obviously trying to further scold Margaery.

"Weakness." Maragery said, still not meeting his gaze. "That you will do anything a young, southern flower asks of you. That you cannot be respected or trusted as their liegelord."

Robb walked his way towards Margaery and raised her chin with a single finger, forcing her to look upon him. "Then you understand why I am angry?"

Margaery again only nodded her head. Even if she was angry with him, Margaery knew she had not acted appropriately. She needed to think about her actions more; it was unwise to act on such emotion without thinking through her decisions. She had promised herself that she would never endanger Robb and now she had gone and done exactly that again. After a moment, she finally worked up the courage to ask the question she had been wondering throughout Robb's scolding. "Why?"

A look of confusion crossed Robb's face. "What do you mean why?"

"Why.." Margaery hesitated before continuing. "Why do you even seat me at your side? If you know the risk, then why… why would you put a r-ruined woman before your bannermen?" She finished, choking on her last words.

She immediately felt herself be pulled into a hug and her anger at Robb was momentarily forgotten. "Margaery, I never want to hear you say that again." He said, pulling back and looking her in the eyes. "You are just as beautiful as you ever were." He whispered quietly, causing Margaery to suck in a breath. "And why? Because I need you with me. Because even if you may have been wrong in dismissing my bannermen today, in almost every other instance you are quite right. Why do I risk the trust and respect of my bannermen just to have you around? Because your input is worth the risk."

Margaery pulled herself back towards Robb and nodded her head against his chest. "I'm sorry. Truly. I should not have acted in such a way." Margaery apologized truthfully.

"Aye. You shouldn't have." Robb said with a chuckle.

After a moment of easy silence, Margaery pulled herself back away from him. "I'm still angry with you." She asserted.

"Aye. I know." Robb conceded, not trying to argue against her.

"I will not be commanded around like some common-woman and certainly not by a note sent by some maid." She warned.

"I should have spoken with you directly." Robb admitted, though not elaborating any further.

Margaery waited a moment and continued glaring directly at him. To her surprise, he continued meeting her gaze. In the past, even a hint of her glare would break his will, but it seemed today would not be like the others. "And I will be accompanying you to the south… as we already discussed." Margaery finished, leaving no room for argument.

"Margaery, you should stay in Winterfell." Robb tried, his voice steadfast.

"I do not care what you think I should or should not do. I will be accompanying you to the south." She repeated, meeting his steadfast tone.

"I need you to watch over Winterfell for me. Rule it in my stead. Bran and Rickon both need you. They can't rule without your guidance." He began, knowingly pulling at her heart. "I will have Jon with me and I need someone here I trust to hold the north. I need you to stay here."

Margaery felt her resolve waiver for a moment. Should she stay? She couldn't bare to leave little Rickon or even poor Bran; they had already lost so much and were about to lose their brother. But… If Margaery didn't go and… the gods forbid, something were to happen to Robb, then it would all be for naught.

"No." Margaery stated clearly, causing Robb to visibly reveal his shock.

"No? But we need you in Winterfell! Bran and Rickon need you!" Robb tried to argue, his voice exasperated.

"You just said it yourself Robb. You need me. Bran and Rickon will have Maester Luwin to help them lead. While they may not be a family member, I would not be able to replace you or your mother. Besides, your mother will be returning to Winterfell after the situation with the Imp has sorted itself out. They will survive without me and Winterfell will stand as it always has." Margaery finished, knowingly challenging him to counter her arguments.

"Margaery… I only think-" Robb said, his voice just a hint weaker.

"And, as we discussed with the lords, my presence can help ensure the support of the Reach. 100,000 swords at your side Robb; or at the very least not on the side of your enemies." She speculated. "I need to be with you, if we are to win this war."

Robb said nothing for several moments. Margaery readied herself to argue further, but instead he let out a deep sigh. "Aye. Aye, you are right… I wanted to make sure you were safe…I couldn't bare it if you were hurt again."

Margaery grabbed his hand gently and gave him a reassuring squeeze. "Nothing will happen. I will certainly not be entering any battlefield; I will leave that to you." She japed, trying to lighten the mood.

"Aye. I won't let it." Robb stated, no doubt evident in his words. He sighed deeply again and looked directly at her with such emotion that Margaery almost turned away. After a moment, he cleared his throat and took a step back. "We leave on the morrow Margaery. You best prepare your things, though I am guessing you were already in the process of doing so." He finished with a smile, clearly dismissing her.

She nodded her head and smiled. Margaery lingered a for a small time, before turning around and beginning to leave the room.

"Send in the Great Jon and Lord Bolton, will you Margaery!?" Robb called out over her shoulder.

She didn't respond, but she knew she would do so. She should likely apologize as well, though perhaps just this once she would allow herself a mistake and leave her courtesies imperfect; she certainly believed she had earned one and she would not be able to do so for some time if things continued like they were.

 **This chapter was written while listening to Amy Shark, a great indie rock/pop singer from Australia (Her song Adore is one of my top 5).**


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